GOT Simulation: Rhaegar's Rule
by CreativeLiterature
Summary: Five friends return to Westeros as self-inserts, to help enact their ideal of peace on the Seven Kingdoms.


A/N: This fanfic follows the same style as my other GOT simulation series. I have tried to be as accurate about times and dates as possible and helpful wherever vague mists surround.

"I want to be Tywin," Adam said, very quietly as his friends around him ruminated. "I want Aerys destroyed.

"I'll be Cersei, then," Clara said knowingly, to approving nods from Max and Zoe. "I'll marry Rhaegar."

"Hmmph," Zoe had been on the cusp of announcing herself Lyanna, but then replied, "I'll be Catelyn, so I can marry Brandon."

"And I'll be Elia!" Grace cheered, to Clara's frown and Max's scowl. "She's sooo pretty."

"Are you gonna be Robert again?" Clara asked Max pointedly.

"Nah," Max shook his head.

"Your parents will still be alive," Adam noted. "If my plan works out to eradicate Aerys earlier than usual."

"Nah, no thanks," Max waved a hand in dismissal. "I'll be Gregor. He's big and strong and doesn't have to rule, and you can arrange a sweet marriage for me."

"Very well," Adam spoke like Tywin already. "Here's the plan… "

"Begin!" Aemon cried, raising his hands so that all fell into the blue simulation…

 **256 AC**

Grace/ELIA

Grace blinked up at her parents, not knowing who they were yet loving their embrace all the more.

 **262 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

"I invite you to be my Hand, Ser Tywin," the newly crowned Aerys was impressed with Adam's destruction of Houses Reyne and Tarbeck, as Adam rose in honor as the crowd cheered and clapped around him.

"It is my honor, Your Grace," Adam's eyes remained steadfastly gold and green.

 **264 AC**

Zoe/CATELYN

"Oh," Minisa gasped, unfurling the swaddling to see her baby girl. "Catelyn. Yes, I shall name her Catelyn."

"Wonderful," Hoster beamed to see his daughter's fingers curling in and out, gazing at Catelyn with love.

 **265 AC**

Max/GREGOR

"Gods," swore Lord Clegane. "He's a big boy!"

Max grinned at that, bubbling spit as he did so.

 **266 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

"Tywin," Joanna breathed, holding his hand as her palpitations began, and all the maesters of the realm on hand to ensure no chances were taken. "I'm scared - "

"Don't be," Adam said kindly. "I've paid for all the help I can get."

"No," Joanna frowned as another wave rocked her. "What if I'm not a good mother?"

"You will be," Adam held her, steady as a rock as first Clara/Cersei was born, followed stoutly by Jaime. "Cersei, to be sure. Jaime?"

"Yes," Joanna painted, nearly fainting from exertion. "Yes."

 **267 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

Adam rode hard for the Rock, all his retainers in tow. It did not take long before he reached the Lion's Mouth, where he was met by dry-eyed Kevan leading him to their father's quarters, where they found his mistress, the daughter of a candle maker.

"Out," Adam spoke a word and guards hauled the crying woman to her feet, crumpled as she was wearing his late mother's gowns and jewellery since discarded to the floor.

"Wisely done, brother," Kevan looked to Adam/Tywin for guidance. "What now?"

"Now," Adam clapped a hand on Kevan's shoulder. "You rule in my absence as Lord. I will return to King's Landing as Hand."

 **268 AC**

Zoe/CATELYN

Zoe cried at her mother's funeral, where she was laid to sea while little Lysa, only two years younger and as many old bawled in her wet nurse's care back in the castle of Riverrun.

Adam/TYWIN

"Lord Steffon," Adam gazed down at Steffon Baratheon and his two sons he had brought to court. "Young Robert and Stannis. Please enjoy the hospitality of King's Landing."

 **270 AC**

Max/GREGOR

Big for his age, Max watched as his father held the bundle in his arms while his mother panted, no stranger to child birth to deliver Max/Gregor's girth.

"Whatcha gonna name him?" Max asked deviously, watching the babe cry.

"Sandor," his father boomed, looking to his wife for guidance but she had passed out.

 **272 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

Adam sat in silence as Aerys leered at his wife's breasts and asked if they were made ruined by child rearing. He ruminated on what might come to pass and how happy that made him; he had to stifle the smile that was unbecoming of the Lord of Casterly Rock.

 **273 AC**

Clara/CERSEI

"No," Clara replied, dumbfounded as golden hair fell down her back.

"I am afraid so," the maester Creylen reported sadly. "Your lord father is not taking it well, I fear."

"Why would he?" Clara asked stubbornly, turning from his sight. "You can go."

Adam/TYWIN

"This cannot be," Adam slammed a fist down on the table, staring before all the maesters in the room who had helped to deliver Joanna of a deformed baby boy yet his wife lay dead in childbirth. "I hired you all for a reason, to ensure my wife remained alive."

"My Lord Hand," hesitated Creylen the maester. "We still do not know the mysteries of childbirth; indeed, why the blood drains the life from them so - "

"Enough," Adam's eyes were slits of gold and green, enough to make the wizened men around him buckle. "I shall find new appointments for all of you, especially Creylen."

"That is your right," Creylen spoke, feeble as he did so. "I am ashamed I could not do better, my lord."

When the maesters had left, Adam found Tyrion in the care of his wet nurse, who hid her look of disgust within the swaddling clothes quick enough when the Lord of Casterly Rock entered.

"Leave us," Adam thundered, and the wet nurse swept a curtsey after she handed the babe to his father, hurrying off to her servant's quarters.

"Tyrion," Adam could not feel resentment towards the boy; after all, it was the maesters in his care who had failed Joanna, not this boy who had only wanted to breathe life. "You shall be looked after, I promise."

"Brother," Kevan spoke to Adam who comforted Jaime in his time of distress, while Clara/Cersei sat still as a stone. "The Princess of Dorne has arrived."

"Very well," Adam nodded, leaving Kevan to make all the arrangements. "I'll be back, Jaime - "

"But, Father," Jaime's eyes were red-rimmed. "When will Mother come back?"

"Lord Tywin," the Princess of Dorne sat regal opposite the Hand of the King. "Please accept my condolences on the passing of your lady wife. Joanna and I were close in King's Landing."

"Thank you," Adam nodded soberly. "You come with a proposal, I understand?"

"Yes," she continued, not surprised he knew for she had shared her plans with Joanna. "Your lady wife thought it a good match that Jaime wed my Elia, and your Cersei to my Oberyn."

"I am afraid I must decline your proposal, however well intentioned the offer was," Adam replied coldly, pouring more wine for the himself and the Princess of Dorne. "I intend Cersei for another, and Jaime will marry for love."

"Elia is the sweetest girl," she interceded, as Adam took a sip from his goblet. "With your permission, might Elia and Oberyn stay at Casterly Rock a while longer?"

"Of course," Adam nodded. "If Jaime consents, then I shall allow the betrothal."

Grace/ELIA

"Hi, Cersei!" Grace waved, hugging seven year old Clara who tried to wrest herself away.

"Jeez," Clara complained, all gold and silks while Elia wore dark hair in a plait with crimson silks. "So you're gonna marry Jaime?"

"Only if he wants me too," Grace was mopey. "He's only seven!"

"Yeah, well," Clara glanced to Jaime who swung his sword, expertly so even at his young age at the training dummy set up in the yard. "He just lost his mother. You might be an adequate substitute."

Clara/CERSEI

"Lady Cersei," Prince Oberyn was but a year younger than Grace/Elia, but Clara could easily see why he would grow to bed so many lusty wenches and knights later in life.

"Hi," Clara watched him pass her, as he practised with many weapons including the spear, thinking of another timeline where his anger would be the cause of his doom.

Grace/ELIA

"Princess," Jaime bowed, a boy of seven where Grace towered over him.

"You don't have to marry me if you don't want to," Grace held his hands, looking into his eyes, feeling she would always be his mother with the age difference. "I can go back to Dorne, and live with my mum. She's really cool."

 **276 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

"I will be holding a tournament in honor of Viserys' birth," Adam told the small council, as they shuffled parchment and made arrangements. "To be held at Lannisport."

Clara/CERSEI

"What?" Clara scowled, as Septa Saranella watched her put on her best gown and finest jewellery.

"You must smile more, my lady," the septa added a frown of her own to match Clara's quizzical expression.

"No," Clara hated being told to smile, was all she ever heard from her real-life mother.

Clara found ways to escape her septa, finding Melara and and Jeyne to escort her into the woods where she found the tent of Maggy the Frog.

"Hi," Clara announced herself, startling Maggy out of her reverie, where the exotic smells made Melara shiver, while Jeyne fled in fear. "I want to see my future."

"Cersei," Melara pleaded, as Clara pricked her hand with the point of a dagger she had brought, holding the dripping wound to Maggy who licked and savoured the taste.

"Three questions," Maggy smiled. "You won't like the answers."

"Will I marry the prince?" Clara asked doubtfully.

"No," Maggy confirmed her fears. "You will marry the king."

"How many children will we have?"

"Together you will have two," Maggy continued.

"Will he love me?" Clara asked, coming to the central point.

"Oh, yes," Maggy smiled, croaking as she did so while Melara gasped, hands over her mouth. "But he will love another, too. In the end, the dragon king will have the she-wolf."

"That's enough," Clara turned on her heel, her heart thudding that she would not be able to hold Rhaegar the way she would hope, and she steadfastly refused to be a sort of Anne Boleyn who had to work every day to overlook Rhaegar's hidden love for Lyanna.

"What about me?" Melara leapt forward, pricking her hand as Clara left the tent alone.

Max/GREGOR

At eleven, Max was besting boys his age and older, for his size was formidable and his reach was keen. Still, his father forbade him from entering the tournament for better men than he would be riding in the lists; among them, Ser Arthur Dayne and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.

"So what?" Max had scowled. "I'll beat them all!"

"No, son," boomed Lord Clegane, sensing his son's delight for bloodshed. "You'll watch in the stands with your brother."

Sandor was six, but Max would be loathe to inflict upon him the horrors he had endured in another lifetime. Max kept Sandor by his side, defending him with from bullies with ease but finding it odd to look upon his face which was not half-burned and mutilated.

Grace/ELIA

"Aw, can't I go?" Grace asked, as her brother Doran read the invitation to Lannisport.

"No," spoke the Princess of Dorne, authoritatively. "Lord Tywin would allow his children to marry for love, while neither Jaime nor Cersei made inclinations towards you or Oberyn. You will stay."

"Fine," Grace moped. "I'll visit baby Arianne."

Zoe/CATELYN

"Lord Tywin Lannister has invited you to attend the tourney held in honor of Prince Viserys' birth," Lord Hoster Tully read, still despondent over the loss of his beloved wife yet twelve year old Catelyn was grim while ten year old Lysa found solace in Petyr Baelish.

Adam/TYWIN

"Welcome," Adam inclined his head to Lord Hoster, who had travelled from Riverrun to bring his two daughters to Lannisport. "The hospitality of Casterly Rock is yours."

"Lord Tywin," Hoster drew him aside, before Adam could ask how grim-faced Zoe/Catelyn was doing, standing beside sad Lysa who had wanted to bring Petyr. "Might we discuss in private?"

"Of course," Tywin took rooms that were private and overlooking the tourney grounds, in one of the best inns in Lannisport while all the knights were strapping into their armor by squires and heralds announcing those who would fight in the lists to come.

"I have decided to betroth my daughter Catelyn to Brandon Stark," Lord Hoster told him, while Adam's eyes remained gold and green. "She was pleased but she is not a girl to show her smiles. As for Lysa… "

"... you wish to propose her for Jaime, is that correct?" Adam asked and Hoster nodded. "Lord Hoster, Jaime is ten and he is enjoying swordplay. I have had to refuse him Princess Elia and now your daughter. When he is ready to marry, he will choose who he loves."

"Even a stable girl?" Hoster goaded, rising from the table. "Losing his mother was the worst thing that could have happened to his chances. You would be wise to accept this betrothal."

"Nonsense," Adam remained unmoved. "By all means marry Lysa to Petyr Baelish, if you think such a match will suffice."

"You say too much," Hoster stormed from the room, but checked himself on the precipice.

"Are you quite finished?" Adam asked coldly, watching Hoster turn to him with a brazen look of defiance. "I had another proposal in mind, if you are willing to hear it."

"Tyrion," Hoster realised. "I would rather a whole man for my daughter - "

"No," Adam replied, not speaking aloud that he would prefer a more stable woman than Lysa. "Not Tyrion."

Clara/CERSEI

"What's it like?" Clara asked Zoe/Catelyn, who was beautiful even at twelve with flowing red hair.

"It's alright," Zoe shrugged. "Got engaged to Brandon a while back."

Max/GREGOR

Max hacked at the training dummy with all his strength, splinters flying as he used one hand to hold the great sword for his size where he dwarfed other boys his age.

Grace/ELIA

"You are twenty years of age, Elia," the Princess of Dorne reminded Grace. "I will see you safely wed."

"No! If I can't have Jaime, who else is there?" Grace moaned, then coming to a conclusion as her mother began to speak. "I know! Stannis!"

"Steffon Baratheon's second son?" the Princess frowned.

"Yeah," Grace nodded enthusiastically, not adding that she knew he would be awkward in the marital bed and not likely to pester her with affection. "When he's older."

Zoe/CATELYN

Zoe sat between Lysa and nine year old Edmure as Rhaegar rode in the lists, easily the most handsome man by far, a kind of ethereal beauty with eyes that looked into your soul, but Ser Arthur Dayne won the tourney in the end.

 **277 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

Adam's host sat outside Duskendale, where his formidable host had besieged the city where Lord Denys had taken King Aerys hostage and slain the member of Kingsguard, Ser Gwayne Gaunt.

"Lord Hand," Ser Barristan stood before Lord Tywin, requesting private talks. "Please allow me to conduct the rescue of His Grace - "

"No," Adam was stubborn. Although Clara/Cersei was promised to another and he didn't care for Rhaegar's good standing any longer, this dragon king must come to his knees. "We march."

Clara/CERSEI

"Oh, Cersei," Melara sat beside Clara in the great hall of Casterly Rock, breaking their fast while Septa Saranella sat nearby with her nun's habit while the morning sun shone through the paned glass windows above. "I know you must be sad today."

"Why?" Clara frowned, watching her uncle Kevan in talks with the master-at-arms for Jaime's training offer her a smile before he left to which she replied with a nod.

"I heard your lord father has announced your betrothal to the son and heir of Riverrun, only ten years old," Melara continued. "I know you were holding out for the prince… "

"No," Clara fixated determinedly on the meal before her. "You know what that Maggy said. He would love another."

"Oh, but he's the prince!" gushed Melara. "What better life could you have as queen? And surely you could turn his heart around! What good could a woods witch know?"

"Everything," Clara said dully. "I'm not marrying for ambition, I'm in the best family in Westeros - "

Septa Saranella made attempts to shush her at this point but Clara blithely ignored her.

"I'd rather marry for love," Clara continued. "Or at least someone who worships me enough not to get on my bad side so often."

"True," Melara dropped her head, wishing she could be so proud and indifferent as Cersei was, to shrug off the not-so-small matter of marrying the crown prince of Westeros.

Max/GREGOR

Max practised with Sandor in the yard, who dreamed of becoming a knight one day and under his older brother's tutelage was certain to land some hardier knocks which would put him in good stead.

Grace/ELIA

Grace traveled from Sunspear by ship, up past the Stepstones and into Shipbreaker Bay where she disembarked at Storm's End.

"Princess Elia," Lord Steffon Baratheon stood beside his wife, Lady Cassana. "We welcome you to Storm's End, on this particular occasion."

"Thanks," Grace sniffed, joining his lady wife in the wheelhouse while Steffon rode by horse, from the docks to the formidable castle which looked quite impregnable.

"These are your quarters, Princess," Cassana led her warmly into richly furnished rooms which she would share with her septa to ensure no claims of impropriety were spread.

"Thanks," Grace hugged her, excited not to be wed to just any boy who would fondle and grope her as she went about her daily tasks. "I'll change and then I'll meet you down there."

Zoe/CATELYN

"Cat," Petyr attempted to talk to Zoe but she would have none of it.

"Go away," Zoe warned, an edge to her voice she would find easily as Catelyn.

Adam/TYWIN

"It is over, Lord Denys," Adam spoke, as the ruins of Duskendale lay before him while men and women and children ran screaming. "Where is the king?"

"Dead," Lord Denys shocked all with gasps coming from the crowd. "The king is dead."

Clara/CERSEI

"Prince Rhaegar is to be king," Septa Saranella told her as Clara painted on her easel, trying to capture the sunset on the edge of the ocean.

"So?" Clara made no movement but to wet her paintbrush. "I don't care anymore."

Grace/ELIA

"I'm Elia," Grace smiled, curtseying to Stannis who was eight years her junior.

"Princess," Stannis bowed rigidly, even in his adolescent youth.

Adam/TYWIN

"Your Grace," Adam bowed to King Rhaegar who sat the Iron Throne.

"Lord Tywin," Rhaegar's voice resounded. "I propose a tournament held at Harrenhal, to bring together all the lords and ladies of the realm to cement the peace."

"Of course," Adam inclined his head, not caring that Rhaegar would meet Lyanna there or if she was already proposed to Robert Baratheon or what war that would cause. He felt compelled to leave King's Landing, to resign as Hand and raise Tyrion as best he could without a mother to do it in his stead, for what did he care about Rhaegar's peace? "Your Grace, with your permission I should like my son Jaime to squire for you."

"Of course," Rhaegar consented.

 **280 AC**

Max/GREGOR

"Rise, Ser Gregor," Rhaegar stood taller than Max only for an instant, as the newly knighted soldier towered above all.

Grace/ELIA

"I take you for my wife," Stannis said rigidly, removing Elia's maiden cloak of gold and orange and crimson, and replacing it with one of black and yellow. "Princess Elia."

 **281 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

Adam sat in the stands, watching the tourney proceed while on either side of him sat Jaime and Cersei, then Kevan and Tyrion.

Clara/CERSEI

Clara's eyes flicked over Rhaegar as he rode in the lists, feeling jealousy pit in her stomach that he would never be hers for as long as he held eyes for Lyanna and glanced away, not caring a jot for that typical sot.

Max/GREGOR

Max was good at fighting men especially in the melee, no doubt; but in the lists he fell to better jousters to gasps in the crowd for his size.

Grace/ELIA

Grace sat beside her husband, Stannis, who gritted his teeth and had only done his duty in the bedchamber to which she was sure she would be with child soon. She smiled for he did not touch her often and she could spend her nights listening to the waves crash against Storm's End.

Zoe/CATELYN

"Lady Catelyn," Brandon was as formal as his father, but with a glint in his eye.

"Hi, Brandon," Zoe begrudged him his good looks as he sauntered away and she could not help but feel a fire in her loins begin to spread as she stiffy refused to give him the time of day any longer.

Adam/TYWIN

"I'm resigning the Handship once this is done," Adam said, watching Rhaegar recoup his lance as he rode against Ser Arthur Dayne, both fierce warriors when roused. "I want to raise Tyrion by my side so he can be my heir."

"Isn't Jaime your heir?" Clara asked in her clipped tones, watching Ashara Dayne cheer on her brother who had mystifying purple eyes and a beautiful aura.

"Jaime wants to join the Kingsguard," Adam told her. "Ser Harlan has passed in his sleep, so a finer knight could not be chosen."

Clara/CERSEI

Clara's eyes flitted from side to side, watching as Rhaegar rode against Ser Arthur, knowing enough of jousting to know she was watching two professionals in their field as the crowd gasped in surprise to see Rhaegar win against the Sword of the Morning, who all knew was the finest swordsman of his day.

"His Grace has won the joust," declared the spokesperson. "Please, Your Grace, would you crown the queen of love and beauty?"

Rhaegar rode forth to collect the crown, enamelled with gold and gemstones as he rode his horse forth to the galley where Lyanna sat. She caught her breath for up close any woman could see how handsome he was. He paused for a but a moment, then turned and offered the crown to Cersei Lannister.

Clara scowled as she knew she should not, Rhaegar hesitating for she did not offer even the smallest offer of politeness that she should accept. She rose and took her skirts with her as the crowd blanched, walking off the galley as her father and brother and all followed her out and away from the tournament where awkwardly, the crowd began to titter and Rhaegar rode into the middle, his somberness touching every woman's heart in the vicinity.

"I don't want him," Clara told her family, Adam/Tywin and Kevan and Jaime who sat listening while Tyrion, only eight, dawdled in the background. "He'll only cheat on me."

"Who told you this?" Kevan demanded. "He is the crown prince - "

"Kevan," Adam raised his hand to which Kevan fell loyally silent.

"Maggy the frog said so," Clara told him. "She told me I would marry the king, that I would birth twice, that Rhaegar would love the she-wolf."

"Just like the old tale," Adam said out loud, to which Clara nodded but which Kevan and Jaime were befuddled. "We will refuse him, then. I will not allow Rhaegar to ruin your life by bedding Lyanna at the end of it."

Max/GREGOR

Max bent Pia who worked in the buttery over his bed and did her double, a sweet girl whom he no less came into.

Grace/ELIA

"I hope Cersei's OK," Grace said seriously, beautiful with her chestnut hair and crimson garb, accented with the stag of Baratheon as she sat beside her husband who could be chewing cud for how frequently he gnashed his teeth together.

Zoe/CATELYN

"Are you OK?" Zoe asked on behalf of Grace/Elia, whose husband was introducing her to all the lords and ladies while Brandon Stark lingered in the background, talking to his father Rickard and brother Eddard.

"Yeah," Clara blew her fringe out of her face, holding a parasol to protect her from the sun. "I'm sick of this place. I can't wait to go home."

"Here or this simulation?" Zoe asked wryly.

"Whatever," Clara shrugged insouciantly. "At least Edmure won't cheat on me. I'll have his throat cut if he does and keep my children."

"Don't know why Rhaegar wants to marry you," Zoe smirked and Clara admitted a little laugh at that. "C'mon, let's sneak into the yard and practice some swordplay."

"Fine," Clara covered her mouth with her hand to yawn and followed Zoe amiably through to where the barracks was, in the gigantic monstrosity that was Harrenhal.

Adam/TYWIN

"Lord Tywin," Rhaegar turned as Adam entered the chambers which had been set aside for the king. "Thank you for seeing me."

"I am your Hand, Your Grace," Adam bowed correctly. "While the king is away, the kingdom still needs tending to."

"I would ask you this," Rhaegar paused. "Why did your daughter refuse the crown I offered her?"

"She fears you love another," Adam replied. "Rickard Stark's girl, Lyanna. She would not want to shine in the light of your love only to be eclipsed by another who burns brighter."

"She would not," Rhaegar said very quietly indeed, turning to the balcony where darkness had taken place.

Clara/CERSEI

Clara slept in the chambers set aside for her, for Harrenhal was a very big place indeed. Within her room a single candle illuminated the darkness else stars lit up the night sky.

She could hear the harp playing, but craning her neck out the window she could see little other than the torches burning of far-off soldiers and knights enjoying their till-dawn feast replete with ale and wenches warming their camp tents at night.

Clara lay in bed and tried to get some sleep but the music ran through her, leaving tears on her feather pillow as she cradled it and tried not to think of this gulf opening up wide within her, wanting only to be cherished.

Max/GREGOR

"I'll call you," Max waved to her, confusing much of the general populace within range as Pretty Pia wept for she had been quite taken with his devil-may-care attitude but not with his girth which had quite left her limping.

Grace/ELIA

"That was nice," Grace sniffed, within her wheelhouse where she was set to return to Storm's End with her husband.

Zoe/CATELYN

"Your betrothal will be made public next year," Zoe's father Lord Hoster rode up next to where she took her own courser. "Are you not nervous, little Cat?"

"Course," Zoe said bluntly. "But I'll keep him in line!"

Hoster smiled at that as did many of his guards, with merriment and din at such a formidable daughter of their lord taking charge and control of the reins as she rode forth.

 **282 AC**

Zoe/CATELYN

"Don't kill him," Zoe warned, as Brandon nodded, easily taking Petyr in a fight to which he wanted to fight for her honor but she did not want this skimpy money grubber who lay close to mortal wounds and in pain, but she called the maester nonetheless.

Adam/TYWIN

"Well done," Adam had no hint of guile in his smile as he clapped his son Jaime on the back, for in front of all the court of King's Landing he had lost his heir to the Kingsguard, nine strong who ringed Rhaegar, one of two vacancies filled since Ser Gwayne Gaunt had perished in Duskendale and Ser Harlan Grandison in his sleep at the capital city.

"Thank you, Father," Jaime was really quite chuffed; a knight at his age and a skilled swordsman, brought to the order of highest chivalry to serve alongside the likes of Ser Gerold, Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan.

"Lord Tywin," Rhaegar spoke up at one of the small council meetings, at which he interminably attended for the king was focused on keeping the rule steady that his father had allowed to decline. "If I could have a word."

"Of course, Your Grace," Adam nodded to Ser Gerold and Ser Arthur who stood outside the council doors, who closed the doors in reply once the other members of council had departed. "How may I help?"

"I would like to marry your daughter," Rhaegar spoke man-to-man to Adam. "If she will have me."

Clara/CERSEI

Gulls cawed in the sky above from Lannisport as Clara sat in the wheelhouse with an honor guard forming around her, well-wishers coming out from the streets to see the Light of the West promised to wed the handsome Targaryen king who had so besotted with her.

"Are you alright?" Adam asked, riding his horse near her where Jaime rode alongside for she was to be queen and protecting her on his watch as well.

"Yeah," Clara watched the people clap and cheer, while inside she wore the finest gold and crimson silk gown, her hair ornamented and pinned in place. "You should put Max on the Kingsguard."

Max/GREGOR

"What!" Max shouted. "Why me?"

"The king has requested it," Lord Clegane puffed out his chest. "You're a strong lad, Gregor. Think of it. You'll have the ear of the king and you'll be there for life."

"Sandor will get your stuff," Max frowned. "How will I get money?"

"You'll have more than enough once you win a joust or two," his father added. "We'll be riding to King's Landing for the royal wedding within the fortnight, where you'll take your vows."

Grace/ELIA

"Oh, cool!" Grace watched from her pew, standing beside Stannis as Clara/Cersei walked down the aisle, led by Adam/Tywin. She watched as Rhaegar removed her cloak of crimson and gold which Adam had wed Joanna in, and draped her in one of black and red, the Targaryen colours with the sigil of a dragon.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love," Rhaegar traced the outline of Clara's cheek before dipping his head to hers, their kiss sealing many a matrimonial moment for the highborn ladies concerned as cheers and applause broke out in the sept of Baelor.

Zoe/CATELYN

"You should come to my wedding," Zoe suggested as she and Clara stood to one side during the feast, where soon the bedding ceremony would commence.

"Can't," Clara replied coolly. "I was supposed to marry Edmure, remember."

"Oh right," Zoe shrugged, not caring a jot but she could see Lord Hoster casting looks at Clara when her back was turned and Edmure quite lost that this beautiful siren he was betrothed to had married the king, a most powerful and generous lord indeed.

Adam/TYWIN

"I shall leave within a moon's turn, Your Grace," Adam told Rhaegar, who nodded sternly. "Tyrion is almost ten. He needs my guidance if he is to become Lord of Casterly Rock."

"Indeed," Rhaegar gestured that the turkey should be brought forth for dinner. "It will be impossible to replace you as Hand."

"Nonsense," Adam waved the compliment away. "But I would suggest my brother Kevan."

Clara/CERSEI

"Cersei," Rhaegar looked into her eyes as he took her maidenhead, which she gladly yielded after hours of foreplay which had left her quite otherwise light headed.

Max/GREGOR

As the newest member of the Kingsguard, Max was thankfully relieved of the task to stand guard at Rhaegar's quarters while he bedded his real life sister.

Grace/ELIA

"Oh!" Grace's brow was slick with sweat, but she knew the sickness was oncoming for the birth was a hard one and Elia's frame not dealt to deliver such things as babies. "Is it a boy or girl?"

Zoe/CATELYN

"With this kiss, I pledge my love," Brandon smirked and dipped his head to hers, finding in her a fiery strength he had not expected of a girl he was forced to marry, and she remembered those words spoken in the sept of Baelor but now before a godswood tree.

 **283 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

"Very good, Tyrion," Adam congratulated his son on his name day, where sons and daughters of lords had been invited where they stared with an almost grotesque fascination at this boy who would be heir to Casterly Rock when the Old Lion was gone.

Clara/CERSEI

Queen Clara walked the halls of King's Landing, with her brother Ser Jaime and her real-life brother Max/Gregor, with the remainder seven Kingsguard knights sworn to protect King Rhaegar night and day.

Max/GREGOR

"Fuck!" Gregor's size and strength made him formidable, but Ser Arthur Dayne beat him in a melee which left him scorched and panting.

Grace/ELIA

"Give her to me," Grace said weakly, still remembering pangs of pain from the birth every now and again as the wet nurse handed her Shireen, a beautiful baby girl of only a year old who waddled and tried to reach for her mother's face. "God, I don't want to go through that again."

Zoe/CATELYN

"He's mine," Zoe harshly reprimanded the wet nurse who curtsied and made her departure, as she held her newborn boy in her arms.

Clara/CERSEI

"Rhaegar, don't go," Clara pleaded, having only just recently given birth to twins Aegon and Rhaenys, a beautiful boy and girl.

"I must," Rhaegar told her. "I am the king, it is my duty to attend important functions like this."

"Fine," Clara glanced away, too weak to argue as Rhaegar went on his way to Storm's End, where Robert was to wed Lyanna Stark.

"Your Grace," tittered Varys, as Clara sat up in the bed one morning where her babies were in separate chambers off her room. "Might I say you look radiant in motherhood?"

"No," Clara refused. "Tell me what do you want, Varys?"

"Only that the king has returned," Varys smiled unctuously. "The wedding feast was not long, and he wished to ride fast to see his beautiful babes once more."

"Fine," Clara waved him away with a dismissal and he bowed and backed from the room.

 **284 AC**

Grace/ELIA

"What's all the shouting about?" Grace feared as she heard crashes and bangs coming from the birthing chamber where Lyanna was interred.

"I do not know, Princess," cowered one of Grace's handmaids, ducking for cover as Robert burst out, as red and puce and muscular as ever.

"Where's my warhammer?" Robert demanded. "I'll kill the fucker!"

Max/GREGOR

"Rhaegar!" cried a voice.

Max turned, as part of Rhaegar's Kingsguard alongside most of them besides Ser Barristan guarding Aegon, Prince Lewyn guarding Rhaenys and Ser Jaime guarding Clara/Cersei, which left him with Ser Arthur, Ser Gerold, Ser Jonothor Darry and Ser Oswell Whent.

Robert came stomping through King's Landing, his warhammer on his back with a trio of stormlanders following his approach as citizens backed off and town guards called for reproach.

"You!" Robert pointed at Rhaegar. "You took my Lyanna! You got her with child!"

"Robert - " Rhaegar hesitated upon seeing the warhammer he drew, with all Kingsguard, Max included, drawing their own weapons. "Hold your fire!"

The five Kingsguard hesitated as heaving, Robert watched Rhaegar approach.

"He had purple eyes, damn you," Robert accused. "And now you will pay!"

"No," Rhaegar drew his own sword, battling Robert in melee as the Kingsguard were powerless by Rhaegar's command to watch, while the market quickly emptied and Robert's ferociousness was a match even for Rhaegar the skilled swordsman.

"The boy is a stain on my name!" Robert boomed, his every move backing Rhaegar into a corner, who fought only defensively. "He is a stain no longer!"

With widening eyes Rhaegar realised what had transpired and slashed too late, an arc through Robert's belly that spilled his guts while Robert's warhammer crushed Rhaegar's windpipe and both men lay dying in each other's blood, clutching the weapons that had ended the duel.

Grace/ELIA

"Where did Robert go?" Grace asked, chilled in the stormy weather above Storm's End while Stannis grinded his teeth.

"Gods if I know," Stannis told her. "Lyanna Baratheon is dead and the babe too, apparently."

Zoe/CATELYN

Zoe held Robb in her arms, only one year old who she had elected to name after Catelyn and Eddard's original first born son.

Clara/CERSEI

"What?" Clara was roused sleepily by Max/Gregor and Jaime, Kingsguard in their white armor and cloaks.

"Rhaegar's dead," Max told her, as Clara woke alert. "Robert came to the city and told him Lyanna had been defiled and that there was a baby, and then Robert whispered something and Rhaegar hacked at him but he died as did Robert."

"Fuck," Clara ignored the growing pit of jealousy which could mean Rhaegar cheated on her, that the prophecy had come full circle. "What about this baby?"

"Dead," Jaime told her. "Lord Steffon rides for King's Landing as we speak. Lyanna died in childbirth and the babe was buried at sea."

"Then Robert could be lying," Clara decided. "Why would he tell us Rhaegar had a secret love child with Lyanna?"

As Jaime took the lead through the royal apartments which led to the small council room, Max whispered in her ear.

"He said the baby had purple eyes…"

Clara looked at him warningly and Max nodded sourly. Clara glanced away and pushed open the doors to the small council, as the members rose as one.

"Jaime, guard outside," Clara ordered, as Jaime nodded to stand by the doors. "Order the other Kingsguard to be with Aegon and Rhaenys. Max, join us. This is a time of war."

Surprised, the small council no less took their seats once Clara had at their head, as Regent.

"So, Steffon comes for us," Clara asked blearily. "What do we do?"

"Your Grace," Kevan began. "Princess Elia writes that Lyanna and the babe were buried at sea when Robert traveled to the capital. There is no proof should Steffon come to us and claim the king did you a disservice."

"Yes," Clara nodded. "It wasn't our fault the fat cunt killed my husband. Any justice Steffon sees fit is done in his mind. This matter is closed."

"I will send a raven to Lord Tywin to inform him of the events, not least of which to all the realm that there is a new king… Aegon," Kevan continued.

"Yep," Clara nodded. "I want all the Wardens and Lords Paramount to ride for King's Landing to attend Rhaegar's funeral and affirm their oaths of loyalty to my son."

"Very good, Your Grace," Varys nodded obsequiously, as Clara turned a suspicious eye on him.

Max/GREGOR

"Lord Steffon," Max greeted the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands as he came with a small escort into the room preceding that of the Iron Throne. "This way."

"My thanks," Steffon nodded stiffly, led into the throne room where Clara sat on an ornamented chair beside the Iron Throne, in her capacity as Regent for young Aegon while Kevan as Hand stood near and all the small council and Sers Jaime, Oswell and Jonothor nearby, the remainder Kingsguard in the royal apartments where Aegon and Rhaenys slept.

"Your Grace," Lord Steffon bowed as did his kin, a dozen of fierce stormlanders who eyed the court and the gold cloaks lining the walls with their spears and swords. "I come for my son Robert, who rode for King's Landing not a fortnight past and now I hear there is a new king."

"Yep," Clara replied smartly, as Kevan winced but hid it well, while Varys glanced to his members of council with a worried look. "Aegon is king. Your son came to King's Landing and attacked my late husband - "

"No!" Steffon boomed like the waves upon Storm's End. "Robert would never do such a thing - "

"Gregor," Clara glanced to her gigantic member of Kingsguard, her real life brother. "You were there."

"Yeah," Max/Gregor nodded. "Robert hit first. Rhaegar had to defend himself, and splat! Rhaegar was dead and your son, too."

This made the court titter and the small council discomfited and Steffon twist his hand into knuckles.

"This is an outrage," Steffon shook his head. "Why would Robert commit regicide?"

"That's why you're here," Clara stared daggers into him with her lovely green and gold eyes. "You're here to answer for his crimes."

"Robert had just lost Lyanna and the babe… but I cannot think why he would vent his anger on the king. Not one at all," Steffon grew impatient.

"He still did it," Max said cautiously, as Steffon glared at him. "Whatever the reason."

"That is enough, Ser Gregor," Kevan sharply rebuked.

"No," Clara warned her uncle. "He speaks the truth. And now, Lord Steffon, what say you to your son's charge?"

"I cannot believe Robert did this," Steffon shook his head.

"I can call Barristan and Arthur and Gerold," Clara warned. "All of them honorable knights who will attest your son struck first."

"I want a trial!" Steffon boomed. "I have lost my son and heir!"

"No," Clara rebuked. "Both Robert and Rhaegar are dead. Your justice is in closure. On behalf of my son, I will accept your oath of fealty now and before the court."

"No," Steffon's voice was thick with anger, he knew not what he was saying in that the court gasped and took it to mean he refused Aegon. "I will have my justice!"

"Fine," Clara turned to Max/Gregor who nodded. "Gregor, take Lord Steffon for his insolence to the black cells - "

"Never!" cried the storm landers, who drew steel against the advancing gold cloaks.

"Men - " cried Steffon, his eyes widening as he realised the scene unfolding, but his steel remained undrawn.

"Gregor and Jaime," Clara ordered, as Jaime stepped down from where he stood beside his sister and uncle to draw his steel, a menace with his ever-quick sword arm. "Take Steffon alive and kill his men."

"No!" Steffon roared, as Gregor advanced like a hulking brute while Jaime swiftly advanced on them.

Jaime sliced through the stormlander's tunics causing crimson to splatter on the stone while Max/Gregor knocked Steffon flat on his face with a mailed fist, seeing stars. The storm landers roared and hailed blows on Gregor, but though his mail was dented from the impact one swing of his one handed greatsword made their cries all the louder as Jaime took them in the rear; a dozen storm landers no challenge for the likes of Jaime or Gregor.

Grace/ELIA

"What?" Grace paled.

"We march," Stannis grit his teeth. "My father is taken captive for requesting justice for Robert; his men slain. This Lannister Regent is incapable of rule. I will wrest the crown's forces and call a great council so that the realm might once again know peace."

"You will need allies, Lord Stannis," replied maester Jurne, who had delivered Grace/Elia her baby of which she was obstinate to only have one, and that a girl, Shireen. "I would not be surprised if Lord Tywin is marching to King's Landing as we speak, to rein in Cersei Lannister and her schemes."

"You're right," Stannis grit his teeth. "I will call upon House Tully. Lord Hoster has always felt slighted that his son was put second to Rhaegar. I will offer to wed his heir Edmure to Shireen."

"What?" Grace paled, but the storms made her intervention not heard as she swirled her skirts away to hide at the door.

"I will also call upon Lord Arryn, who fostered Robert and Eddard together at the Eyrie. If I can get Hoster to agree to the match between Edmure and Shireen, he might also consider an marriage alliance with his daughter Lysa and Jon Arryn, which I will put to him."

"That is a good idea, my lord," maester Jurne nodded wisely.

"As for the north," Stannis grit his teeth. "Rickard may rouse, but his daughter died in childbirth, and Robert was Eddard's friend. His armies may not reach the capital in time, but might give pause if the Lannisters advance on us from the west."

"What about Dorne?" maester Jurne pointed out. "Prince Doran commands House Martell now. He will surely put some soldiers on ships to aid you, with your marriage to Elia."

"Yes," Stannis nodded. "I will have Elia write to her brother for aid. With the stormlands, the riverlands, the Vale and Dorne on our side, that will be enough to overturn this miscarriage of justice my father has faced, restore him to his place as Lord Paramount and see to it that the boy Aegon does not grow to be his father, who slew Robert without trial."

Zoe/CATELYN

"There is a new king," Rickard read to Brandon, Zoe/Catelyn, Eddard and Benjen, who were all dour upon learning of sweet Lyanna's death in childbirth, as well as her baby. "The Queen Regent claims Robert slew Rhaegar and both perished; while Lord Steffon has been arrested for refusing to bow to the boy Aegon."

Adam/TYWIN

"Be seated," Adam ordered his advisers and generals, among them Ser Addam Marbrand. "The Queen Regent writes that she has received intelligence that Stannis Baratheon intends to march on the capital, using marriage alliances to bring Houses Tully, Arryn and Martell to his side."

"How has she come by this intel?" Ser Addam asked politely.

"Varys," Adam lied. "Stannis will march in a fortnight, so the Queen Regent has already sent out a raven to the Tyrells, to betroth herself to fourteen year old Willas and King Aegon to Margaery Tyrell."

Adam's eyes remained cold, that Stannis would dare launch an attack to defy the peace of the realm.

"The Queen Regent intends the Tyrells to siphon off part of their force to besiege Storm's End, with another part to march up the rose road to reinforce King's Landing, while using Lord Redwyne's ships to stymie any Martell ships coming from the south as well as prevent Stannis from departing by sea."

"What about House Tully and Arryn, my lord?" asked Ser Addam.

"The Queen Regent already has a plan for House Arryn, who intends to set sail from Gulltown," Adam's eyes flashed. "The royal fleet will keep them engaged while she is preparing her back up plan. As for House Tully, they will besiege King's Landing expecting to be reinforced by Lord Stannis… and find themselves woefully undermanned to do so."

"We shall march on Riverrun," Ser Addam nodded grimly.

"Yes," Adam nodded. "You will command ten thousand men to besiege the remnants of Riverrun, while I will continue east and take the Tully army in the rear, while Kevan will march the crown army in the front from King's Landing."

"What about Lord Frey?" Ser Addam persisted. "He will be a thorn in our side - "

"Walder Frey will not rouse himself until the victor is certain," Adam remainded Addam who remained stern. "Lord Rickard will march south once he learns his good daughter Catelyn's home is under attack, but I have that all arranged. Let us prepare, men."

Clara/CERSEI

"We're gonna win," Max said dully, drinking some wine in Clara's chambers with the door closed, while she looked out the balcony where her crown fleet was assembled to take on the Arryn ships, while Steffon began to rot in the cells below.

"He didn't surrender," Clara complained. "Stannis ignores the fact we hold his father hostage."

"Who cares," Max said blearily, beginning to drink from the bottle once the goblet had fallen over with a clang Clara's sharp eyes alerted him to with a pithy warning.

"I have to marry Willas," Clara folded her arms. "At least he'll be nice, but I'll have to go away from my children while they're being raised."

Grace/ELIA

Grace took two-year old Shireen by the hand, both dressed in servant garb down the stairs and to the wet dock where she allowed the cage door to be raised and in flooded soldiers with clusters of red grape sigils on their cloaks and tunics, overlaid with chain mail and armor as their swords came before them up the narrow stairway, where Grace and Shireen were shepherded by Lord Redwyne into his ship, a willing and complicit hostage in these times of war.

Adam/TYWIN

Adam rode with twenty five thousand men, with Ser Addam splintering off with ten thousand to besiege Riverrun. Adam marched fast and hard along the river road, near Darry then south along the kingsroad to rescue King's Landing from attack.

Clara/CERSEI

"Your Grace," Ser Gerold along with all the Kingsguard, save for Jaime and Gregor who were being fitted to ride into battle alongside her uncle Kevan, the Hand, while Clara remained in the royal apartments with young Aegon and Rhaenys kept close. "Lord Velaryon has launched the royal fleet against the incoming ships of House Arryn."

"Did you tell him my plan?" Clara demanded.

"Yes, Your Grace," Gerold nodded, still strong for his age and wise. "The pyromancers have worked to create as many pots of wildfire as possible, and should Lord Velaryon determine the losses too great to his men, he will feign retreat and the chain will be raised once Lord Arryn's ships are within range."

"Good," Clara nodded, as Varys burst through with a raven. "What?"

"Apologies, Your Grace," Varys bowed, upon the threshold where seven members of the Kingsguard eyed him warily. "Lord Mace Tyrell writes that Storm's End is his, that Princess Elia Martell and her daughter Shireen are in his keeping, that Lord Randyll Tarly will hold Storm's End and that Dorne have retreated their ships upon learning Elia was in custody. Lord Tyrell and his bannerman Lord Rowan Mathis are riding to reinforce King's Landing, while Lord Paxter Redwyne is sailing north to do the same by sea and take out any errant Arryn ships."

"Good," Clara nodded stonily, as Varys swept a bow of thanks. "You can go."

Max/GREGOR

"Lord Hoster we will take alive if we can," Kevan told Ser Jaime and Ser Gregor, who commanded five thousand each of the fifteen thousand strong army of the crown lands between them. "But it is no small matter. We will take them for raising levies against the king."

Grace/ELIA

"It's ok, Shireen," Grace calmed her two year old, as she watched from one of the principal Redwyne ships where Lord Arryn's fleet was entering Blackwater Bay.

Zoe/CATELYN

"Father has ordered us to remain here," Brandon said miserably, as Rickard rode south to break the siege of Riverrun by Lannister forces.

Adam/TYWIN

"The Tullys have begun their siege," Adam watched as Lord Hoster and his trout sigil men encamped outside the capital. "Twenty thousand men, more than what the capital holds even with two thousand gold cloaks. We will not need the Tyrells to reinforce us so soon."

Clara/CERSEI

Clara watched with satisfaction as the Arryn fleet was mopped up by the Redwyne ships, while she had dispatched Ser Arthur Dayne to ensure Grace/Elia and Shireen were brought to her alive and unharmed.

"Your Grace," Varys bowed. "Lord Randyll Tarly writes that he has the usurper Stannis in chains along with his seven year old brother Renly."

"Good," Clara ordered. "Either by land or ship whichever is safest, deliver them both to the capital."

As Varys bowed and made his leave, Clara turned to the gates of King's Landing which were opening to permit the Targaryen army, led by Kevan and Max/Gregor and Jaime, in the thick of night to march upon the Tully army twenty thousand strong. In the distance she could hear war horns sounding and see the banners cresting the rise that were the gold and crimson lions of Lannister.

Max/GREGOR

Max commanded the left flank while Kevan rode center and Jaime right, but though he was outnumbered his spirits were boosted hearing the cries of the Tully camp caught unawares by the twenty five thousand Lannister lions taking them in the rear.

Grace/ELIA

"So you're here at last," Clara observed, as Elia and Shireen were brought into the royal apartments by the Sword of the Morning. "Thanks, Ser Arthur."

"Poor Shireen," Grace said sadly, as Clara watched her. "She'll have to grow up without a father."

Zoe/CATELYN

"A raven?" Zoe asked, as maester Walys nodded and handed her the sealed scroll. She broke it and read that her father was dead.

Adam/TYWIN

"Lord Tywin," Kevan spoke formally, as the remnants of the Tully army lay scattered or routing, easily chased up by Max/Gregor whose blood was up during such a massacre. "Hoster Tully is dead while his son and daughter are under our capture, seeing as once the capital is taken he wanted to wed Edmure and Lysa both to Shireen and Jon Arryn respectively as soon as possible to cement the alliances."

"Good," Adam nodded. "The north will have twenty thousand men and should be close to Moat Cailin by now. I will reinforce Ser Addam who holds Riverrun under siege. You with Jaime and Gregor will return to King's Landing, to take Cersei's place as Regent while Mace Tyrell will become Hand. You will need to keep him in line, Kevan."

"I will, my lord," Kevan said, as he rode with Jaime to take the fifteen thousand strong Targaryen army back towards the capital.

Clara/CERSEI

"Your Grace," Kevan knelt before the Iron Throne, beside which Clara sat while Mace stood as acting Hand in Kevan's stead, where the small council was newly ennobled with Paxter Redwyne as master of ships. "I bring you news of victory against the Tully forces. Sers Gregor and Jaime fought in the left and right flanks of the Targaryen army to bring a decisive end to Hoster Tully, who was attacked in the rear by your lord father's forces. I bring you Hoster's children, Edmure and Lysa as hostages."

Edmure could not have more hate for this woman who had brought his family in ruins, dirtied and in shambles while Lysa was wild-eyed and paranoid of her surroundings.

"Edmure Tully," Clara decreed, who was only Regent until her wedding to Willas Tyrell, four years her junior. "Upon your father's death you inherit his title of Riverrun, but only if here and now, you name your father a traitor and bend the knee to King Aegon."

Clara did not flinch as Edmure's eyes burned into hers, kneeling before the Iron Throne.

"I take Aegon as my true king," his jaw was grim and set. "Aye, and you my queen."

Max/GREGOR

"Oh, Gregor," Pia breathed, for Max had stopped at Harrenhal to pick her up and install in her own manse at King's Landing, for which she was happy to service him when he visited.

Grace/ELIA

"Stannis Baratheon, you are a traitor to the crown," Kevan declared, as Hand while Clara as Regent stood by for Jon Arryn had drowned at sea during Lord Redwyne's naval assault.

"Oh," Grace had to look away, knowing Shireen was the heir to the Baratheon line, since Lord Steffon would be sent to the Wall.

"You'll go back to Storm's End and Randyll Tarly will be your castellan for the interim, until the stormlanders fall into line," Clara had told her. "He'll make sure you're well treated, and that nobody knows you are the reason Storm's End fell."

Adam/TYWIN

"Yield the castle, Ser Brynden," called Ser Addam, turning to see Adam riding up to him with seventeen year old Edmure and eighteen year old Lysa in company. "Lord Tywin!"

"Ser Addam," Adam inclined his head, bringing his twenty-five thousand men to Ser Addam's ten thousand who were besieging Riverrun. "I bring the young lord Tully. He has bent the knee to King Aegon."

"I have," Lord Edmure nodded, not without his surly attitude. He turned to the parapets. "Uncle! I am Lord of Riverrun and I order your - my - men to stand down!"

"No, boy," the Blackfish's shout made Adam angry that capitulation would not be immediate. "You are a hostage. The lion will eat the fish once I lower the gates."

"Very well, then," Adam adroitly encountered, turning to Ser Addam. "Maintain the siege. I will take my men to parley with Rickard Stark when he gets here."

"At the ford?" Ser Addam asked, as Adam nodded. "What if Lord Frey - "

"Walder Frey will be Lord Paramount of the riverlands," Adam told him, in hearing of Edmure who grew steadily redder. "That is the price for keeping Rickard from crossing the Twins."

Clara/CERSEI

"... with this kiss, I pledge my love," fourteen year old Willas kissed Clara, in a tender gesture she did not expect, as the sept rang out with applause. Clara had been walked down the aisle by her uncle since her father was busy fighting a war.

"Oh, Clara, you get to go to Highgarden," Grace gushed.

"And miss my children," Clara was not at all pleased.

"At least you get to make new ones!" Grace said, then added in an undertone. "At least Willas won't cheat on you - "

Clara stared at her with a pout then turned away as Grace sadly tried to comfort but she shrugged her off.

"Get away," Clara hissed in an undertone, taking her lord husband's hand as she went to the castle to the royal feast.

Max/GREGOR

"Fuck, wish I was there," Gregor complained, having a drink with Ser Jaime as he imagined Adam taking all the glory in the battles, only one of which he could participate in which was the annihilation of House Tully's forces.

Adam/TYWIN

"Lord Stark," Adam met Rickard Stark at the ruby ford, where his twenty thousand lions met the same number of direwolves, bristling with hostility. "You have come too late to save House Tully. Lord Edmure has bent the knee and disavows any conflict with the crown."

"You have not taken Riverrun, my scouts tell me," Rickard boomed in his mighty voice.

"The Blackfish remains adamant," Adam admitted. "The people of Riverrun cannot last long without their fields of wheat to sustain them during such a siege."

"You want me to bend the knee," Rickard contemplated. "My son was ward to Jon Arryn. He was best friends with Robert Baratheon. You cannot expect me to ignore their deaths."

"Stannis falsely believed he had a claim to the Iron Throne," Adam's voice was iron. "He conspired with Hoster Tully to plant his daughter on the throne and marry her to Lord Edmure, and marry the Lady Lysa to Jon Arryn in return for his forces."

"I know all this," Rickard told him. "I don't deny Stannis acted brashly - "

"His forces were upon the capital as Lords Tully and Arryn marched their armies," Adam replied. "Tell me, at what point would you propose opening negotiations at this blatant act of war? Stannis intended to win with speed. He is a traitor, aided and abetted."

"Aye," Rickard nodded, glancing to his men. "I regret that it has come to this."

"You will not be forgotten, Lord Stark," Adam said, trying to conceal the fear in his voice that Rickard would pit his equal force against his own. "I offer you a seat on the small council."

"Hand?" Rickard replied insouciantly.

"That honor is Mace Tyrell's, for taking Stannis alive and Storm's End untouched," Adam said smoothly. "You will settle in well as master of laws."

"What say you, men?" Rickard turned to his men who erupted in a mighty cheer. "I will be on this council to ensure Aegon does not go the way of his oath breaking father."

"I would expect no less," Adam nodded to his knights who turned and prepared their war banners to back down. "Upon your arrival to the capital, I should be pleased to have the prince Viserys fostered at Winterfell. He grows discontent without a father figure."

"Aye," Rickard replied. "I should be honored, Lord Tywin."

Clara/CERSEI

"My dear wife," Willas kissed Clara's fingers. "Pray tell I did not hurt you."

"Nope," Clara turned onto her side, her golden hair across her curves and bountiful breasts as Willas breathed in her perfume and sighed, replete in his satisfaction.

Zoe/CATELYN

"Father is going to the capital," Brandon downed a mug of ale in the quarters they shared, moving into his father's room as servants packed trunks full of luggage for the departure south.

"What?" Zoe frowned, watching him stride out to ride and hawk and hunt, for her nagging and complicity in making him a lord to rival his father's always got on his bad side.

 **285 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

"Ser Stevron will aid you in the siege, to seal House Frey's allegiance to House Lannister and cement his father's new position as Lord Paramount of the riverlands," Adam told Ser Addam. "I must return to King's Landing, not the least of which to appoint a Warden of the East for the Eyrie to come under the king's domain once more."

"My lord," Ser Addam could not meet his eye. "I have received a raven from Casterly Rock. Balon Greyjoy has struck Lannisport, with Victarion in control of the night attack where your flagship fleet was burnt to the hull."

"Damnit," Adam swore, glad he was out of sight of his retainers with only Ser Addam to glimpse his wrath. "I planned on surprising him this time but this war distracted me. Very well; if he wants a war, I'll give him one."

Clara/CERSEI

"Your Grace," Adam bowed to Clara, for she would not yield the regency until the war was won, though she likely already had a baby in her belly. "The war is won."

"Oh," was all Clara had to say. She would leave her children and that would be it. "OK."

"Lord Regent, if you would," Adam suggested, as Clara stood by her lord husband in the gallery while Kevan took his seat on the slightly fanciful throne.

"I appoint Lord Tyrell Hand of the King," spoke Kevan, while Mace puffed out his chest in pride. "Lord Redwyne the master of ships to replace Lord Velaryon. Lord Stark the master of laws to replace Lord Staunton. Now that the war is won, Shireen Baratheon will inherit Storm's End and be wed to Lord Tyrell's second son Garlan."

Lord Redwyne pleased to be in such a position with his ships, Lord Stark reasonably glad to be on the small council while Lords Velaryon and Staunton none too pleased that the interference of the Tyrells had ousted them of their positions at court.

"Edmure Tully is declared Lord of Riverrun and Walder Frey Lord Paramount of the riverlands, as both have bent the knee to King Aegon. Lady Cersei Tyrell will travel to Highgarden with her new husband Willas… while King Aegon is declared betrothed to Lord Tyrell's daughter, the Lady Margaery."

Max/GREGOR

"Ser Gregor, you may enter," Adam offered, as Max nodded while Jaime guarded the doors which were then closed, taking a seat where Adam sat at the head, Kevan to his right, followed by Lords Tyrell, Stark, Redwyne, Chelsted, Varys and grand maester Pycelle. Kevan did not begrudge his older brother his seat as Regent at the table.

"Balon Greyjoy has chosen a most opportunistic time to break the peace, namely when we have just won," Adam's eyes glittered, as Max felt his blood rise at the chance to slaughter some iron born and take home some salt wives for his uses. "Lord Rickard will assemble his northmen and meet Lord Jason Mallister, one of the captured Tully rebels who bent the knee along with his men at Seagard to prepare to set sail for the Iron Islands.

We will join them at Lannisport and extinguish the Greyjoys for this treason."

"I offer the crown my ships," Lord Redwyne spoke up. "I shall ferry as many as I can."

"Thank you, Lord Redwyne," Adam nodded. "As for House Martell, they sent ships to rescue Elia but they were thwarted by your superior own."

"A good deed," Lord Redwyne continued considerably in this fashion for some time.

"Lord Tywin," Mace interposed. "What news of Riverrun?"

"Ser Addam Marbrand holds the siege alongside Ser Stevron Frey," Adam politely informed him. "Riverrun holds fewer soldiers to feed while ours feast on their surrounding land mass. It will not be long before the Blackfish yields the castle or else his people will starve and stab him in his sleep."

"And Lord Edmure?" Rickard spoke up, showing nothing behind his granite face.

"He is kept safe with Ser Addam," Adam inclined. "He maintains the Blackfish yield the castle but to no avail."

"I see," Rickard boomed, nothing further to comment at this time.

"Lord Tyrell, our Lord Hand," Adam turned to Mace. "Might you intercede with Prince Doran? I will offer him Prince Viserys' hand for his daughter Arianne."

"O-of course," Mace blustered, who was now to set off on a voyage which would take time away from his fathering a daughter on his wife Alerie. "But who shall be Hand in my absence, my lord?"

"Kevan shall be Regent and Hand both," Adam's tone brooked no argument. "We will be without a master of ships with Lord Redwyne's departure, but our crown fleet is intact and I do not anticipate any large fleets from Essos harrying us anytime soon."

Grace/ELIA

"Here we are again, Shireen," Grace said, entering her old rooms at Storm's End while Lord Tarly's men made the place secure, for those storm landers who had not bent the knee had been either sent to the Wall or executed for treason.

Adam/TYWIN

While Lord Redwyne sailed around Westeros and delivered Lord Tyrell to Sunspear along the way, Adam rode west with Max/Gregor and Jaime from King's Landing along the gold road where as he approached Lannisport he was met with a honor guard, among them his own son Tyrion with Lord Clegane and his fifteen year old son, Sandor.

"Greetings, Lord Tywin," Lord Clegane inclined his head, as Sandor had a sword on his belt. "Gregor!"

"Father," Tyrion rode close. "Jaime."

"Tyrion," Adam inclined his head then turning to address the troops before him. "I intend on wiping out the Greyjoys, with Lord Stark's help from Seagard and Lord Redwyne's ships to assail the Iron Fleet and the shores of Pyke."

Clara/CERSEI

"How do you like Highgarden?" Willas smiled, trying to stifle his worry for his father sailing to Dorne which had never been conquered.

"I like it," Clara found it nice in fact, strolling around the gardens and finding it a little too much flowers. "I don't like your grandmother, though. She's too harsh on me."

"She's harsh on everyone," Willas' eyes crinkled as he held her hand. "Won't you try some grapes? You know, the sigil of my grandmother is - "

"Grapes, from Red Wine, yeah I get it," Clara rolled her eyes behind his back, but smiled nonetheless when he caught her.

Max/GREGOR

Max set sail, on board on the principal Redwyne fleets along with Adam/Tywin, his father Lord Clegane and Jaime.

Grace/ELIA

"Princess Elia," Lord Randyll Tarly was stubborn and bore more than a passing resemblance in his disciplinarian approach to her real life father. "I hope you are keeping yourself well here at Storm's End."

"Yes, thank you," Grace curtsied unnecessarily. "I like your wife. She's really nice."

Zoe/CATELYN

"My lady," bowed maester Walys. "A raven from Pyke."

Brandon and Eddard had gone with their father to Seagard, so Zoe was left alone to look after young Robb.

"It says here," Zoe peered at the script. "Rickard took the Iron Isles by force, alongside the troops of Lord Tywin's aided by the sails of Lord Redwyne. Balon was killed along with all his line, while on the regent's orders Lord Tywin demolished the castles and slaughtered the populace akin to Houses Reyne and Tarbeck."

"A fierce lion, my lady," Walys warbled. "Rickard returns north with his sons as we speak."

Adam/TYWIN

Adam returned to Casterly Rock with pomp and circumstance, with Ser Addam following him while Rickard returned to the north while Lord Redwyne's ships sailed back round to ensure Lord Tyrell was well.

"Tyrion," Adam smiled, glad he had settled this war with the help of so many others as he hugged the twelve year old youth in a warm embrace. "At last I might spend these years with you teaching you how to be a Lord of the Rock when it is past my time."

Clara/CERSEI

"I'm pregnant," Clara admitted to Willas, who kissed her on the cheek and held her in a tight embrace.

"I must write to my father at once," Willas said, who had been over the moon that House Martell had bent the knee and betrothed Princess Arianne to Prince Viserys. "When you are well enough to travel you would be able to see your, er, other children."

"Thanks," Clara was glad he knew it meant a lot to her, to be without the twins whom she did so love even if she had mixed feelings over the father.

 **286 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

"My lord," the septon interrupted Adam as he was writing some letters. "I have come to admit to you… that a fortnight past I got heavily drunk and oversaw the wedding of your son, Tyrion, to a crofter's daughter he chance met on the road."

"Father," Tyrion blanched, opening the cottage door in the Sunset Sea where Adam rose from one of the chairs, while Tysha sat nervously on the other.

"There is no need to explain," Adam began. "However, you will need to remarry in a proper sept, Tyrion. I had hoped you would come to me with this."

"I didn't think you'd want to hear it," Tyrion lingered. "I am your heir… "

"And I love you," Adam hugged his son. "You have my blessing, as well as your mother's may she rest in peace. Talk to the septon. We shall have the _proper_ wedding within the fortnight."

Clara/CERSEI

"Urgh," Clara raised from her coma, to hold her baby in her arms that she had taken such pains to deliver, glad she hadn't bled out in childbirth like that bitch Lyanna.

"It's a boy, my lady," smiled the wet nurse, as Willas had to blink his tears away while Clara looked into the boy's eyes, who would grow up strong and handsome just like Aegon, the heir to Highgarden.

"You will be Jon," Clara told him, naming him after a very special boy whose life was robbed on account of that bastard Baratheon. "Jonothor Tyrell."

Max/GREGOR

"Aw, what?" Max had her repeat it twice.

"I'm pregnant," Pia smiled shyly. "I can raise the baby here!"

"I don't have any money," Max scowled. "Only what the queen gives me to live on. You gotta find an orphanage."

"But Gregor, you can win tournaments, can't you?" Pia begged.

"Not against Barristan or Arthur or Gerold," Max ticked the names off the list. "You gotta get rid of it."

"No!" Pia wailed, scattering birds as Max marched granite faced out of the manse and into blissful, free air.

Zoe/CATELYN

"It's a girl, my lady," Walys spoke softly, delivering her of the squalling babe.

"Sansa," Zoe said gruffly, thinking to honor the real Catelyn.

"Very good, my lady," Walys bowed, permitting Brandon to enter who clasped her hand in his.

"A girl," he breathed, rapture with delight.

"She won't be married off to some stranger," Zoe barked, first of all not to Brandon's surprise as the maester winced and made his excuses. "She'll marry who she wants. And I'm training her to be a warrior."

 **287 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

"Ser Willas," Adam inclined his head, meeting his daughter and her husband at Highgarden, where they would all travel together to the capital. "Lady Cersei."

"Father," Clara still found it odd to say the words, as she reclined in the wheelhouse while Willas rode beside her and Adam in front, both Lannister crimson and Tyrell roses all about them.

"How is she?" Adam asked seventeen year old Willas.

"She is such a good mother," Willas admitted. "I do worry I am keeping her from her babes at King's Landing, though."

Clara/CERSEI

Clara emerged from the wheelhouse as it arrived in the courtyard, wet nurses attending to young Jonothor who lay squalling as she walked the length of the yard, arm in arm with her husband as Adam led the way.

"Lord Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock," trumpeted the herald, as Kevan sat as Regent while Mace as Hand, and the members of small council including Jaime and Gregor as Kingsguard protection behind the Iron Throne, those members of the gallery assembled while gold cloaks lined the walls. "Ser Willas Tyrell and his lady wife, Cersei of Houses Lannister and Tyrell, with their son, Jonothor Tyrell."

"My lord," Kevan bowed to his brother who did so in return, while Mace hugged his son and embraced his good daughter affectionately who had delivered him a male grandson.

"I want to see my children," Clara demanded.

Up in the royal apartments where Kevan took residence, was the chamber set to one side where four-year old Aegon and Rhaenys were picture perfect twins, slightly intimidated by their mother swirling skirts with a piercing glare which softened as she saw her kids.

"Aegon, Rhaenys," Clara said rather stiffly. "It's me. Your mother."

"Mother!" Aegon ran towards her skirts, while Rhaenys frowned and turned to her toys.

Max/GREGOR

"What do I do?" Max asked, almost penitent before Adam/Tywin and Kevan who sat in Clara/Cersei's old chambers which were now her uncle's as he was Regent.

"Kingsguard aren't meant to father children," Kevan shook his head. "You say the wench has already given birth?"

"Yeah," Max shrugged insouciantly. "So what?"

"Tell her to keep it in the manse," Adam advised. "I'll give you some gold, but she cannot publicly say it is yours. Boy or girl?"

"Boy," Max smirked. "I'm gonna name him Arthur, after - "

" - the Sword of the Morning," Adam smiled. "He'll like that, if he were to ever find out."

Clara/CERSEI

Once back in Highgarden, it was close to the end of the year when Clara gave delivery to another child, this time a girl.

"Boy, girl, boy, girl," Clara repeated to herself, almost in miasma. "I dunno what to call it."

"How about Olenna?" Willas brightened. "For my dear lady grandmother."

"No," Clara's sharp rebuke brought him back to reality. "Joan. Like my lady mother Joanna."

 **289 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

"You are a man now, Tyrion," Adam spoke at his son and heir's sixteenth name day feast. "Kevan has been long overdue in returning to his wife and children. He will be acting Lord of the Rock, while I shall return to the capital as Regent to rein in Mace Tyrell as Hand."

"Thank you, Father," Tyrion grinned, holding his lady wife Tysha close while some muttered only in hidden whispers why the Old Lion's heir was a dwarf who married a cobbler's daughter for love. "It will be good to see Uncle Kevan again."

"Lord Tywin," Mace was chuffed, for if he was displeased he made sure no sign to show it. "The small council is honored by your presence."

"Thank you, lord Hand," Adam acknowledged the head of House Tyrell. "How is your wife Alerie faring, and your three sons and daughter?"

"Well, my lord, very well indeed," Mace's cheeks were red and he was in a jovial manner befitting his plump status as Adam walked beside him, Lannister and Tyrell guards both as they entered the castle after bidding goodbye to Kevan who would return as acting Lord of the Rock.

"How is the young king?" Adam asked. "And the princess?"

"King Aegon is fiercely independent, but he knows his own mind," Mace nodded in proposed thought, as they climbed a winding staircase with arrow slit windows allowing the salty scent of the sea and inviting caws from the gulls whose shrieks echoed off the marbled stone as their footsteps warned those above them of their approach. "Princess Rhaenys is playful and mischievous, not one to shy away from royal rank and reproach her brother."

"Lord Tywin," spoke the small council, rising as one as Adam entered the chambers, taking the seat at the head of the table with Mace at his right, Lord Chelsted master of coin, Lord Redwyne master of ships, Lord Stark master of laws, Lord Varys master of whispers and Grand Maester Pycelle, feeble but concealing a certain cunning in his eye.

"Be seated," Adam commanded, taking his own seat first before theirs. "How goes the negotiations with the Eyrie?"

"Since Jon Arryn died without issue," Varys began. "The closest living relative who would take his title as Lord of the Eyrie is a boy called Harrold Hardyng. As he is eight and Princess Rhaenys is six, I propose they should be betrothed, and upon Princess Rhaenys reaching sixteen, their marriage in the Eyrie shall proceed."

"Good," Adam nodded. "In the meantime, we will need a Lord Protector to oversee the Eyrie. The Vale understands Jon Arryn's attempt to usurp the crown was founded on bad information; yet we must have someone in position as Lord Protector to ensure nothing goes awry."

"Eddard Stark was fostered with Jon Arryn," Varys simpered. "Since he is a second son and unlikely to inherit Winterfell, alongside his lady wife Ashara he could be Lord Protector in good faith with the Eyrie, help act as raising Harry the Heir to a good standing until he comes of age. In the meantime, Eddard Stark would be Warden of the East."

"A good idea, Lord Varys," Rickard was taken by surprise, for this honor done to him.

"Yes," Adam nodded. "Send the proposal to Winterfell. Send a raven to my daughter at Highgarden, informing her the Hardyng boy is as courtly and well-mannered as her own lord husband; she is not likely to refuse."

"At once," Varys bowed over his sheaf of parchment with a quill and inkpot at the ready.

"Your Grace," Pycelle began. "The lady Catelyn Stark writes Prince Viserys is growing unruly. He dislikes the notion of marrying Princess Arianne, citing she is too low born. Indeed, he is beginning to resent his younger nephew's claim to kingship and is irascible at the best of times."

"My good daughter knows how to tame any man, big or small," Rickard added with a smile that made the members of the small council chortle. "Still, if the prince will not learn - "

"Viserys is a boy who needs to learn he comes third in the line of succession," Adam told the small council. "He aches for his father and brother long since dead. The cold winters of the north have still severals years ahead to knock the insouciance out of that boy.

"Speaking of succession, it is only fitting that the young king and his sister be fostered at Highgarden," Adam continued, with no remonstrances from the council least of all Mace, for this left the ruling largely to the men and better fostered the ties between Casterly Rock and Highgarden. "There they will meet the kindness of Willas and be with their mother, and spend time away from the political arena in which Aegon will one day have to endure. As for Rhaenys, she will look back on such a garden when she is squired into the Eyrie."

"Well said," Mace smiled, chuffed of the honor done to his House as others nodded their agreement.

 **292 AC**

Adam/TYWIN

Adam watched as Viserys sulkily returned from Winterfell, his days spent in isolation at the wintry cove where he had been forced despite a royal prince to sit amongst the common folk as well as the nobles while Walys taught him lessons and Brandon swordsmanship, while he spotted young Robb training with a wooden sword and Sansa ride her pony.

Viserys detested the cold and that he had been passed over as heir presumptive by his nephew and niece, his mood not at all changed when Princess Arianne of House Martell charmed every eye in the sept, but the only glint in his eye was the blood in him.

Clara/CERSEI

"He's nuts," Clara said to Zoe, who had made the journey to King's Landing with Brandon when she had formed part of the escort to return Viserys back to the capital. "He's just as crazy from on the TV show."

"I know," Zoe watched him, wearing Targaryen royal tunic once more with a sword at his belt, his hair in the style and manner of his late brother Rhaegar.

Max/GREGOR

"Cry for me," Viserys demanded, as Max tightened his grip on his sword and heard Arianne screech but her pride would not let her make too much of a noise as the feather bed rattled.

"He's a fucken maniac," Max told Adam, in his chambers off Aegon and Rhaenys' who had returned briefly from Highgarden for their uncle's wedding to she of Dorne. "He raped her."

Grace/ELIA

"You have to leave," Grace told Arianne, on the night after her wedding when she had found out.

"He's a monster," Arianne wept, allowing to show weakness to her aunt.

Clara/CERSEI

"Where are my children?" Clara asked.

"In the courtyard, Lady Cersei," Ser Gerold Hightower stood in front of the doors, arrayed with Sers Arthur Dayne and Barristan Selmy. "The king asked us to remain here - "

" - no more!" Clara heard as she opened the doors, to see Rhaenys stumbling from the cliff top, barely holding on as Viserys gave Aegon a good sharp shove, where he fell from the impact and was out of sight, a gaping hole otherwise filled by Clara's scream.

"No!" Clara shrieked, as Rhaenys fought against Viserys' embraces, her purple eyes meeting that of her mother's, as did Viserys who shoved her back, cowardice backing his every step as Clara flew at him, but for the Kingsguard who reined in and saw all that had transpired.

"Arrest her!" Viserys shrieked, jabbing a finger at Clara whose nails clawed his neck in her blind, mad fury to see him pay. "I am now your king - "!

She felt soft but firm hands restraining her, that of Ser Gerold while Sers Arthur and Barristan held either shoulder of Viserys, and Ser Gerold glanced over the expanse, where Aegon's back was to them on the cliffs and Rhaenys was bobbing in the sea.

Max/GREGOR

"Stop," Arthur ordered, his blade mere seconds from Gregor's chest. "It is not for us to judge. He has requested a trial to prove his innocence - "

"She's lying!" Viserys shrieked for all the court to hear, the high table comprised of Adam/Tywin, Mace Tyrell and Oberyn Martell, whose face was stone as he took place instead of Doran. "Aegon asked us to be alone! This woman wants to take the throne!"

"Enough," Adam was iron, having heard Clara's heart wrenching sobs in Aegon and Rhaenys' old chambers, Willas holding her night and day. "You are accused of regicide and nepoticide. The Lady Cersei has given her testimony by quill. The three members of honored Kingsguard have given their sworn testimony that they only heard the screams afterwards. Will any other witnesses come forward?"

"I will," Arianne took her place at the podium, as Viserys' purple eyes bulged with rage. "He raped me on our wedding night - "

"I heard it," Max stepped forward, in his deep booming tones. "I was on guard that night - "

"That is a lie!" Viserys' shrill voice rang out throughout the chamber but Adam raised a hand. But realising his case was lost when he saw Arthur place a hand on Oberyn who began to rise like a snake, he cried, "I demand a trial by combat!"

"And so you shall have," Adam continued smoothly, but then realised the drawback.

"I call the Sword of the Morning!" Viserys cried gleefully. "I am a member of the royal family it is my right!"

"I will," Arthur was grave within his helmet, wielding Dawn as he faced whoever challenger would dare. "I champion King Viserys in his trial."

"Very well," the blood ran out of Adam's face. "Who will fight Ser Arthur, on behalf of king Aegon and the princess Rhaenys?"

"I shall," Oberyn hissed, striding from the table with his spear at the ready. "I will not allow a king who kills his kin and who rapes my niece to live any longer!"

When the Dornishman lay bleeding out on the ground, Arthur closed Oberyn's eyes with his gauntleted hand and bowed before Viserys who was gleeful.

"Your Grace," spoke the finest sword in the Seven Kingdoms.

"Aha!" Viserys could not be more radiant in his victory, as more looked solemn than he did. "I am king!"

Blank with shock, most of the court watched as Viserys took Arianne's arm, his wife shuffled like a cow and kissed her savagely, his hand groping her breast beneath the crimson gown she wore.

"I call for my coronation!" Viserys cried gleefully, as Arianne stood wan and decrepit. "I will now accept oaths of fealty from the lords and ladies."

"I swear," bowed all the members of the Kingsguard, including Jaime but not Gregor.

"Nah, you're a dick," Max held his great sword at the ready, as Viserys blubbered like a fish, not the least of which at having such a strong fighter go against his will. "I quit."

"You do not quit!" Viserys' shout raged the walls with his fury as his Kingsguard menacingly stepped forward, Jaime uncertain but drawing his sword all the time. "Ser Arthur, kill him - "

"No," Adam stepped forward into Arthur's path, where he stonily approached Gregor but stopped all of a sudden. "Stand down, Ser Arthur."

"What?" Viserys scowled. "You are my Hand! You will do as I say!"

"Lord Tyrell is your Hand," Adam replied, frowning. "I am your regent, until you come of age."

"No!" Viserys yowled like a wildcat in heat, stomping his feat. "Kingsguard, arrest him!"

"You will not," Adam kept the iron firm in his voice as the Kingsguard remained still, Jaime shocked most of all. "The regent rules until the king comes of age. Sers, take Viserys into his chambers - "

"No!" Viserys shouted, knowing his days were to be spent in isolation or refuge. "You watch! On my eighteenth nameday I'll kill you myself - "

Viserys spat a glob of blood as Arthur and Barristan took his arms, suddenly growing puce as he doubled over, his face crumbling and blood spouting from orifices and he collapsed, suddenly quite still amid the screaming and look of shock upon all.

Clara/CERSEI

"Cersei," Jaime stood at the door, his white armor and cape blood splattered from the gore that had protruded and spouted from Viserys' orifices.

"What?" Clara glanced up, huddling with Willas who rubbed her back, red-eyed and hoarse. She stood up immediately, alert. "What the fuck?"

"King Viserys is dead," Jaime took a step, and Clara slapped him for that insult. "He was poisoned it seems. Ser Arthur killed Prince Oberyn to clear his name, but our lord father took precedence as regent. Viserys died as he was dragged away, screaming."

"Good," Clara was firm, reddening as Jaime glanced away awkwardly. "That means there is no king."

"Or queen," Jaime added bleakly, his cheek still stinging. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" Clara underscored, glaring at him.

"Unless Queen Arianne is with child."

Max/GREGOR

"You insulted the king," Ser Gerold spoke sternly to him.

"So what?" Max underscored. "He's dead now."

A low hiss came from the men, superstitious among them.

"Arianne will be Lady Regent if she carries a prince or princess," Arthur said, privately mourning the loss of a fellow Dornishmen, but he held it true in his heart. "She had no love for the king, but still, the Lord Commander can declare you leave our order."

"Fine," Max stomped off, carrying his great two hander with him. He could not reap the title of Lord Clegane to usurp his brother Sandor in the line of succession for his father's lands and keep, but he felt a great weight lifting off his chest, that though these men had been his brothers and skilled swordsmen he respected but not for their high morals.

Grace/ELIA

"I'm not pregnant," Arianne told Grace, who hugged her and cried together for all that they had been through.

"It's OK," Grace comforted Arianne with a weak smile, stroking her hair tenderly. "It gets easier."

Zoe/CATELYN

"King Viserys is dead," Zoe read, not liking the brat and tossing the parchment in the fire. She had returned to Winterfell long since. "Good riddance."

"My lady!" cried maester Walys. "You must not say such things!"

Adam/TYWIN

"What is to be done?" Adam sat at the head of the table, as equal as all the lords present for without a Targaryen heir the Iron Throne was up for grabs. Lords Tyrell, Stark, Redwyne, Chelsted, Varys and maester Pycelle were present.

"We must agree on a new king to take the Iron Throne, without legitimate claim," Mace puffed up his chest, knowing as they all did the claimant must be well backed by swords, gold and find common cause with the smallfolk. "I propose my son Willas, whose wife will be queen."

"Indeed," Varys bobbed his assent, as did maester Pycelle gingerly from his aches. "Willas will be such a generous king. His lady wife knows how to rule beside him. But pray tell, Lord Tyrell, who will be Lord of Highgarden after you?"

"Seeing as Garlan's sires will inherit Storm's End, I name Loras," Mace agreed, as all concerned nodded in unity. "I will propose he wed young Arianne, whom he will treat as kindly as if she were the most precious Tyrell rose."

"And will the small council remain the same once Willas is crowned king?" Varys asked, inciting the two biggest egos in the room to clash.

"No," Adam replied, as firmly as if to put a stop to Mace Tyrell's blubbering that he would be passed over. "I will be returning to Casterly Rock."

"My lord?" Mace tried hard to stay calm, for this most fortuitous change in events had allowed him to seize the capital without fear of losing face.

"My son Tyrion has lost his wife in childbirth," Adam ruminated, fixing Mace with those lion's gold and green eyes. "As well as the fruit of her loins."

"No," Mace breathed, but then he realised too soon the trap the Old Lion had snared him in, and began to wriggle.

"He is my only son who will inherit," Adam fixed Mace with those eyes, who knew he could not refuse the man who had stepped down the Handship for this quid pro quo. "I will need to find him a wife at once."

"There is no need, my lord," Mace breathed, steady with the swell of his red cheeks as he realised the price to pay to be rid of Lord Tywin's influence. "Young Margaery is still a maid. I would welcome marrying her to your son and heir."

"That is very kind of you, my lord," Adam inclined his head, knowing Mace would sooner marry off his rose to the handsome heir of the isolated Eyrie than the ugly dwarf of the golden Rock. "I will inform Tyrion of the proposal. Doubtless he will be in no state to wed straightaway, you understand."

"Of course," Mace pondered, wondering how he might break the news to his dove as Adam rose and all copied his action and bowed as he headed for the door.

Clara/CERSEI

"Sit down," Clara said irritably, not overall glad she now had to spend her life in King's Landing, where it stank and she feared for her children's lives as Cersei did though Viserys was dead thank god.

"Yes, mother," chirruped Jonothor Tyrell, who hugged her leg while Joan uncertainly made a tower of blocks fall over and began crying.

Max/GREGOR

"Thank the gods," Pia wept, to see Max in the manse which he kept her accustomed with Lannister gold.

"We're gonna move," Max told her abruptly to her shock. "Back west."

"Why?" Pia asked in shock, cradling her babe. "I like it here."

"Mace is Hand," Max reminded her. "He doesn't want me here; I'm an oathbreaker."

Grace/ELIA

"I won't tell anyone," Grace promised, holding Arianne tightly, as she headed back to Storm's End to look over Shireen, while Arianne would head to Highgarden to marry Ser Loras, new heir of House Tyrell.

Adam/TYWIN

"Lord Tywin," Ser Addam met Lord Tywin's troops coming forward, nodding in respect. "Your son awaits you in his chambers."

"Such a dreary day," Adam told him in confidence as the two rode together, backed by their massive horde. "A king is picked out of nowhere. A good one, to make my daughter queen, but Aegon and Rhaenys had such futures."

"A tragedy, my lord," Ser Addam raised his eyebrows at his liege lord's unusually somber tone. "Your daughter will make a fine queen as she was to Rh - to all the people."

"Yes," Adam mused, glimpsing the bulk of Casterly Rock above the Lion's Mouth. "The Lords Declarant of the Eyrie have proposed that Ned Stark and Ashara Stark's daughter, a purple eyed babe by the name of Lyarra, weds Harry once she comes of age."

"And Lord Tyrell, my lord?" Ser Addam Marbrand asked, as the Lion's Mouth was raised and Lannister soldiers formed the better part of their escort. "He rules in King's Landing, they say."

"Yes," the memory still rankled Adam. Still, he had been able to poach Margaery for his son rather than give Mace Tyrell the Eyrie as well as the keys to the kingdom and Dorne. "Now I must needs attend to my son."

Adam walked through the great hall which was empty, devoid of Joanna's laughter from what seemed like an age ago. Advisers waited patiently to talk with him though he swept through them all, to Tyrion's chambers who was overseen by Kevan, glad to be near his wife and children once more.

"My lord?" asked a sweet voice, smiling until she came face to face with horror.

"Who are you?" Adam's breath hissed through his teeth, noticing the whore wore gold and finery.

"I - " the whore curtsied and held her gaze to the floor. "I am Lord Tyrion's - "

"Enough," the girl flinched as Adam marched in the room, glancing around only to see Tyrion enter, downing a goblet of wine with his pants half off, and a dark haired girl to offset the blonde one who crouched quivering.

"Father," Tyrion's goblet clattered to the ground as the dark haired one sought to cover herself. His red eyes were from crying but tonight was for his pleasure.

"Is this what you've been doing while I'm away?" Adam grit his teeth. "I rule the kingdom and leave it in the hands of the Tyrells - "

"Father," Tyrion paused only to let out a loud belch.

"You're the Lord of the Rock when I die, remember?" Adam reminded him. "I have proposed a match for you."

"No," Tyrion shook his head, filling up his goblet with more wine as he dismissed the girls with a wave of their hand which sent them scrambling for their remainder clothes and left abruptly. "I will never marry again. Tysha was all the woman I needed."

"Apparently not," Adam raised his eyebrow. "You will wed the Lady Margaery. She will seek to fill your every need - "

"No!" Tyrion smashed the goblet on the floor in his rage. "I lost Mother before I was born, now I lose the woman I love… even you spent all your time in King's Landing caring more for Cersei than either me or Jaime."

"That's not true," Adam grew puce. "Jaime was free to become a swordsman."

"And I a lord?" Tyrion shook his head. "I would sooner live in a cottage by the sea."

"I don't understand," Adam was puzzled. "You're of a political mind. You'd make a great ruler - "

"Look at me!" Tyrion bellowed, so loud ravens took flight before their messages could be tied to their feet. "The westerlands will never accept me as their lord. I'm a drunk, a failure… some say it was the gods' justice that my wife went the same way as Mother."

"Tyrion," Adam took a step forward, but Tyrion stumbled in his drink and toppled over, face reddening. "I love you. You're my son and I want to help - "

"Then go!" Tyrion screamed. "Go to King's Landing or anywhere but here. I will not be Lord. I will die in a gutter like the whores I fuck… "

"So melodramatic," Adam rolled his eyes, quite unlike Lord Tywin. "You are torn by grief. Don't you understand I was when your lady mother passed?"

"So this is my fault?" Tyrion raged, caught in tears and hurt and shame. "Get out, Father! GET OUT!" Tyrion picked up the fallen goblet, wine smashing against his goblet as red made a splash against his burnished crimson armor.

Clara/CERSEI

"Your Grace," nine year old Margaery curtsied prettily before the queen. "You look well."

"Thanks," Clara replied, bored as she popped a grape into her mouth. "Aren't you gonna marry my little brother?"

"Alas," Margaery could not wholly conceal the smile that came first to mind. "Lord Tyrion himself refused the match."

"He's not lord," Clara raised her eyebrows. "Kevan's acting Lord of the Rock, if not my father."

"Even so," Margaery delicately smoothed the silk, looking wistfully out to the sea where Clara followed her gaze and gulls cawed all around them. "I am to marry Prince Quentyn Martell instead."

Max/GREGOR

"Tyrion needs help," Adam told him one night, in the manse in Casterly Rock set aside for disgraced Ser Max/Gregor, where he frequented brothels often enough and came home to smiling Pia and their son Arthur. "He's in no fit state to rule."

Grace/ELIA

"Mother," Shireen stepped forward, kind like her mother with the Baratheon look of her father. "Will I be a good Lady of Storm's End?"

"Yes," Grace pleaded, wondering how her daughter could doubt herself. "Course you will."

Zoe/CATELYN

"Teach him a hard lesson," Zoe's face was granite, set in stone like the chambers she sat in with Adam/Tywin, while torches flickered in their sconces and chambermaids silently padded by outside the doors on the rushes.

"I know," Adam sighed, having visited Riverrun where he had accepted Edmure's offer to stay and visit the Lady Catelyn during her travels here. "He spurned Margaery. She would've been a great wife for him."

"She didn't want to marry the Imp," Zoe said bluntly, to Adam's knowing wince. "Getting a Dornish kid for a husband is better than that - "

A knock came to the door and Adam rose, feeling instantly alert. Zoe rose too, in her black northern garb with the sigil of the direwolf amidst her red hair and stark complexion.

"Who is it?" Zoe called roughly.

In entered several Tully soldiers, no-nonsense men with the slumped figures of Lannister guards out in the corridor who drew their swords as Adam recoiled in true fear and Zoe snatched a knife from where she had cut her fruit for the lunch.

"Get out!" Zoe was as mad as Catelyn had ever been at the Red Wedding.

"Sister," spoke the hoarse voice of Edmure, twenty-five years old with a reddish beard and a look that spoke volumes. "Get out. This is between me and Lord Tywin."

"Fuck that," Zoe wrestled, but the soldiers easily wrenched the knife out of her hands though it dented their plate mail and she was forced into her old bedroom high in a tower beside where her father used to sleep, under armed guard where she paced the chamber in frustration.

Adam/TYWIN

"Lord Edmure," Adam spoke calmly, summoning all of Tywin's inner resolve as though he did not notice the dead soldiers in the corridor or the dozen Tully soldiers who had survived the onslaught, currently ringing their leader. "You haven't forgotten, then."

"No," Edmure was all blazes. "Take him to the cells and teach him a lesson, boys."

Clara/CERSEI

"I think it best, Your Grace," Mace gave a nod to Willas, at whose side sat Clara fanning herself in boredom, in the royal chambers where servants poured them wine and left. "We should replace Lord Chelsted as master of coin for my uncle Garth and replace Pycelle as grand maester for another of my uncles, Gormond… "

Max/GREGOR

"Tyrion," Max grinned, meeting him in the same whorehouse he frequented. "Want a drink?"

"No, good ser," Tyrion never judged the large man for his oath breaking. "I would not be good company, I fear."

"Come on," Max slapped him on the back. "I'll show you how to have a good time."

Grace/ELIA

Grace sat in her chambers looking out over the sea, hands neatly folded in her lap while Ser Cortnay Penrose, castellan of Storm's End, taught her daughter Shireen all she might want to know about ruling with the help of maester Jurne and his wise counsel. Even now, the phantom pangs of giving birth twinged and she resolved not to get pregnant in real life.

Zoe/CATELYN

"Catelyn," Edmure entered her chambers where he was taken aback to view her expression of loathing, raising his hands in the air. "I know you think I'm acting brash - "

"Fuck off," Zoe stormed at him reducing his manhood to a shrivel. "You can't imprison Tywin. His daughter's the queen."

"I know," Edmure tried to temper her but he quailed under his older sister's gaze.

"Where is he?" Zoe's eyes were pure madness. "Take me to him."

"Now, Cat, that's not such a good idea - " Edmure began, startled as Zoe walked past him, through the open door and assisted by Tully soldiers who ringed her down the stairs into the courtyard, led into the dungeons where she smelled the manure and twin soldiers flanking the entrance, the cell door swinging wide open to permit a shaft of light upon the blinking, bruised, pitiful figure of Lord Tywin.

"Help me," Adam groaned, getting to his feet but Zoe was held back by Edmure but she wrenched free of his grip, helping him stand as he buckled. "They tortured me."

"Don't say anything," Zoe murmured, only a quiet whisper. "I'll take care of you."

"Catelyn - " Edmure began, but Zoe thrust Adam to the ground, where blood oozed fresh from wounds as he fell on the hard stone ground. Edmure held her back as she made for the door. "This must remain a secret. If anyone else finds out that he's here - we're done for."

"You're already done for," Zoe said shortly, taking the stairs up to the landing where she entered maester Vyman's rooms, for maester Kym had since passed away in his sleep. "I need something to sleep after this."

"It can be arranged, my lady," maester Vyman looked to his shelf, while Zoe closed the door on the eavesdropping guards outside.

"Women's problems," her tart reply shut them up as she turned to the maester holding a vial of murky liquid. "I need another favour."

"Name it, my lady," maester Vyman raised his eyebrows as she told him. "I fear I could not… "

"You'll do it," Zoe growled, gripping his wrist so tightly he gasped when he snatched it free and massaged the blood flow back into his veins. "If we don't, we're all doomed."

Clara/CERSEI

Clara watched six year old Jonothor spar with the Red Keep's master-at-arms, Ser Aron Santagar.

"Your Grace," Varys bent low to whisper in her ear, which by now she knew to keep her secrets close even in this capital. "His Grace the King politely requests your presence in the small council chamber."

"What are you doing here, then?" Clara asked, rising from her seat as Jaime accompanied her. She followed Varys even though she knew the way, gold cloaks accompanying her and the master of whispers all the while.

"Your Grace," rose Lord Mace Tyrell, an unreadable mask upon his face which was quite unlike his jolly jowls. Alongside him were the two Tyrells he had appointed, one master of coin and the other Grand Maester appointed by the Citadel, as well as Rickard Stark and Lord Redwyne. Willas looked wan and drawn as he bowed to his lady wife who took her seat at his right hand side. "We have unfortunate news from Riverrun which concerns you most of all - "

"What?" Clara eyed them, Cersei's paranoia leaping from one conclusion to the next for the deaths of Aegon and Rhaenys would never leave her.

"Your lord father," Willas spoke softly. "He traveled to Riverrun a fortnight past to visit the Lady Catelyn, and there the Lord of Riverrun holds them both captive."

"Fuck," Clara swore, anger palpable in her face and veins, in the way she hated how ugly it made her for she should always seem comely to these idiot men who ruled the land.

"My wife," Willas held her shaking hands. "Lord Edmure is a boy. He will see reason - "

"No," Clara spat, thinking of all the damage done in simulations past. "He will die for this."

"By now the young lord Tyrion and his uncle Kevan are marching their own armies to Riverrun," Willas assured her. "We will send our own to join theirs."

"Roslin Frey is betrothed to Edmure," Clara rounded on him angrily. "Walder Frey will attack us!"

"Not when we have the numbers, Your Grace," Mace chortled politely, averting his gaze for the daggers Clara shot at him that he would upbraid her so. "The soldiers and people of Riverrun have seen one siege under your father; they will not be so keen to see through another with quite so gruesome an end in mind."

"Aye," Rickard weighed in. "Those soldiers who are deemed complicit will be executed; else, they will be sent to the Wall."

"Indeed," Mace mused over this. "What say you, Your Grace?"

"I'm not waiting on a siege," Clara hissed in frustration. "I'll talk to Edmure myself."

Zoe/CATELYN

"The king is here," Edmure observed, from the parapets where he joined his sister, watching the banners unfurl and wave in the wind. "He sent us an envoy."

Zoe could see the king ringed by his seven knights all in white, while a half dozen Tyrell soldiers accompanied the queen as her honor guard, riding for the drawbridge of the castle.

"Why's she coming here?" Zoe frowned. "Why not Mace?"

"Dunno," Edmure replied with a mirthful grin. "Perhaps she wants me back."

Clara/CERSEI

Clara's heart thudded in her chest as the drawbridge was raised once they rode over it, six riders following close by with steel at their side while hundreds of Tully soldiers armed with bows kept close watch on them as they cantered into the castle courtyard.

"Queen Cersei," Edmure did a little bow, ringed by several dozen soldiers with the blue Tully fish emblazoned on their doublets. "It is an honor. Though not as much as an honor as it would've been to have you as my wife."

Clara swung off the horse, taking in the battlements and high stone walls and turrets from which one could see the lay of the land surrounding it.

"Come on, then," Clara urged him, following him up the stairs into his private chambers. "Let's get this over with."

Edmure closed the door behind her as she surveyed the room, the same in which her father had been arrested while he poured wine into two goblets and offered one to her.

"No thanks," Clara replied. "What if you poisoned it?"

"You think I'd poison you?" Edmure had to grin at that. "What a waste of beauty that would be. Besides, your husband would storm the walls in an instant."

"Let my father go," Clara's eyes blazed at him as he was not intimidated a bit. "We'll let you go to the Wall."

"Not a chance," Edmure continued. "Your father, your lordly lion fucker killed my sire and spurned my hand for marriage once Rhaegar sent enough poems your way to convince you otherwise."

"So?" Clara irked. "Get over it."

"Get over it?" Edmure smashed his goblet in anger, so aggrieved at this casual dismissal this beautiful woman he had long since dreamed of rejecting him. "I was your husband!"

"No you weren't," Clara said shakily. "You were a man I was supposed to marry, but didn't."

"How dare you," Edmure approached her, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders and kissing her, so deeply Clara was repulsed but her attempts to bat him off went unnoticed.

"There," Edmure wiped his mouth from the blood from his lip where she had bit him. "At least I can say I've had you once!"

"My lord!" cries came from the corridor, as the door burst open and in stepped one of the Tyrell soldiers, whose unsheathed sword glittered pale as Edmure's eyes slowly widened.

"You - " Edmure was knocked to the ground with a punch from the soldier's steel gauntlets, removing his visor to reveal Ser Arthur Dayne beneath.

"Your Grace," Ser Arthur spoke calmly as though he were not surrounded by hundreds of enemies. "You're in safe hands."

Max/GREGOR

"Come on!" Max cried, waiting outside the walls of Riverrun where the Lannister army was encamped, headed by a grimly shaken Tyrion and Kevan who placed a hand on the Mountain's shoulder.

"We wait for the king's signal," Ser Kevan advised him warningly. "We dare not siege the walls until the queen escapes their custody."

"Why'd she only take six men?" Max argued. "We're gonna have to march anyway!"

Zoe/CATELYN

"What's going on?" Zoe demanded, as Tully soldiers had locked her in her chambers once the fighting had began, especially as the blood curdling cries came closer.

Adam/TYWIN

Adam blinked in the light once more, barely able to stand as he could not make out the shapes of the soldiers who stood in the entryway, moving quickly to hoist him to his feet with their blades drawn.

"We must hasten, my lord," spoke the gruff tones of Ser Gerold. "We cannot hold them off indefinitely - "

Clara/CERSEI

"I'm fine," Clara shrugged off Ser Arthur's concerns, watching as Zoe/Catelyn came down the stairs into what was underneath the castle where the grilles were being raised so that they might swim out a postern exit. "Catelyn."

"Cersei," Zoe was huffed from running so fast, her face as red as her hair. "They think I'm taken hostage."

"You are," Clara told her blithely. "Let's go."

"Is he alright?" Zoe glanced to Adam/Tywin, who stood with Ser Gerold and Ser Barristan, both removing their Tyrell armor and keeping only their swords lest they sink in the Trident.

"Yep," Clara said doubtfully, taking one boat beside Catelyn as Sers Jaime, Jonothor and Oswell rushed in, barring the door behind them and stripping of their armor. "C'mon, you're taking fucking forever."

Max/GREGOR

"Your Grace," Kevan bowed before Willas who rode towards him, with an honor guard consisting of his Kingsguard all in white. Max was too focused on the castle to care.

"Ser Kevan," Willas inclined politely. "Ser Gregor."

"Who'd you get to replace me?" Max grunted, staring as Willas gave a nod to his men and all removed their visors, among them Sers Garlan and Loras but the others were Tyrell soldiers of whose reputation with the sword was well known but their names did not quickly come to his mind. "What - "

"Six of the Kingsguard entered with Cersei," Willas told Kevan, who chuckled while Max looked less than pleased at being excluded from being part of the rescue force. "Two more wait on the bank to ensure their boats reach the shore."

"I could've done that," Max spat, to Kevan's open shock at the Mountain's glib tone.

"Ser Gregor," Willas smiled as one man to another. "Your size would've raised suspicion."

Zoe/CATELYN

Zoe watched grumpily as the two small boats they had commandeered dipped and filled with splashes of water from time to time, but else as they rocked to the shore a Tyrell soldier who lifted his visor to resemble no one particularly striking helped them ashore, as Tully cries flew from the parapets alongside arrows that flew like the wind.

Adam/TYWIN

"I cannot let my men see me like this," Adam insisted as the Kingsguard helped their charges into a copse of trees which preceded the southeast field where the Tyrell army was encamped, the Lannister army spread out amongst the southernmost field, and the Frey army to the north west, he had been reliably informed by Zoe/Catelyn.

"Wear my armor," insisted the newest member of the Kingsguard who removed his helm to reveal the typical good looks of House Tyrell while Adam hid his bruises and quivering limbs beneath the plate armor which would keep him safe. "Take my sword. I have horses saddled nearby."

Clara/CERSEI

"We're here," Clara dismounted with the help of Ser Arthur, whom she had held tightly onto during the ride while Ser Barristan helped Zoe/Catelyn and Adam/Tywin held onto Ser Gerold, in Tyrell colours while Prince Lewyn with Sers Oswell, Jonothor and Jaime rode two to a horse and dismounted swiftly, within the Tyrell camp.

"Your Grace," Lord Mace rushed to his good daughter's side, ignoring Zoe/Catelyn. "Where is Lord Tywin?"

"Here," Adam replied, his voice muffled within the visor of the armor he wore emblazoned with the Tyrell rose, but not shortly after he fell from the horse.

"Lord Tywin!" Mace gasped, as Sers Gerold and Arthur helped lug him to his feet, but he remained unconscious.

"Put him in Willas' tent and get a maester," Zoe sharply instructed.

"My lady," Mace raised his voice and squared his shoulders. "You listen here - "

"Do it," Clara ordered, as Sers Gerold and Arthur nodded and hurried towards the king's royal pavilion.

Max/GREGOR

"Your Grace," knelt a runner in the Tyrell colours, as Willas bent his ear to listen, glancing to Ser Kevan with his face grave.

"What is it?" Max asked insouciantly, but Ser Kevan grew drawn after hearing the news.

"Ser Kevan, if you would," Willas got on his horse, surrounded by Garlan and Loras and the other Kingsguard pretenders.

"Keep the lords in line," Kevan told Max. "Tell them - tell them the siege will be soon underway."

Zoe/CATELYN

"My brother," Zoe shook her head in disgust, looking upon Adam's feeble body in Willas' tent, where the maester pored over him while Clara glanced up to see Willas and uncle Kevan enter the pavilion.

"Your Grace," all bowed but for Zoe who was intent and Clara who was swept up in a hug by her husband.

"How fares my good father?" Willas asked, his concern touching Clara as he faced the maester.

"Not well, I'm afraid, Your Grace," the maester drew back the sheet where Adam's body was peppered with bruises and scars, purplish in tinge with his breathing labored. "He had been starved and beaten and left to rot in his own excrement. He's barely alive."

"Your brother has a lot to answer for, Lady Catelyn," Mace admonished. "What are you doing here, in the royal pavilion of all places?"

"She's here by me," Clara snarled. "Don't talk to her that way."

"Your Grace," Mace was torn between rebuking his queen who was also his good daughter and a great deal younger than he.

"No, this is not the time to squabble," Willas held up a hand. "Ser Kevan, you have my mandate to begin the siege. If Lord Edmure has an ounce of sense he'll yield the castle once he realises his captives are fled."

"Yes, Your Grace," Kevan took one look at his ailing brother and marched grimly with determination to where his horse awaited.

"Father," Willas turned to Lord Mace, cheeks still puce with indignation. "I will demand a parley with Edmure Tully which he will likely refuse, to put on a show."

"Yes," Lord Mace nodded, collecting his breathing. "At defying a royal order it will incite the more rebellious troops perhaps to incite a riot and kill some of their own."

"Cersei," Willas' voice turned more soft to the dove he loved. "Have the servants set up quarters for Catelyn. You and I will take rest in my father's pavilion."

"Alright," Clara begrudged. "But what do we do about him?"

"He is in the maester's hands now," Willas spoke softly. "May the gods be merciful."

Adam/TYWIN

"My lord," spoke the maester, in the quiet chill of the pavilion where Ser Jaime guarded outside, ever watchful of his duty and those who passed by as the maester provided liniment while Adam groaned. "You must lie still."

"I cannot," Adam croaked. "I must lead the army. Lord Tywin cannot be seen captured by the enemy and in ill health."

"Lord Tywin, even the mightiest lions must needs sleep," the maester counseled, conjuring up any turn of phrase that might mollify his charge. "And when they awaken, their roar will be heard from afar."

Clara/CERSEI

"Any news?" Clara asked blearily, hearing increased movement outside the pavilion, only hours since she had drifted to sleep with Zoe/Catelyn in a bed beside hers, her black furs discarded to the ground.

"Your Grace," Ser Arthur entered, averting his gaze until otherwise recommended. "Lord Edmure has yielded and raised the white flag. Ser Gregor is said to be foaming at the mouth while the soldiers are led out unharmed."

"My husband will see they meet justice," Clara told Ser Arthur who took this seriously and nodded. "But my father will kill them."

Adam/TYWIN

"Tyrion?" Adam glanced up on his death bed, where his son waddled forth, where Jaime and Cersei stood alongside Kevan.

"Father," Tyrion was broken, tears falling from his eyes. "I brought your armor… I had it polished in case - "

"Tyrion," Adam managed. "You must be strong in my absence. You are the lion who leads the pack."

"Father," Jaime moved, but Clara/Cersei remained to a standstill watching as the light left his eyes.

Clara/CERSEI

"He's gone," Clara told Willas, in the king's pavilion tent which was theirs once more, but somehow defiled with the stench of death.

"Tyrion will be confirmed as Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West," Willas told her, the two lying in bed for the coupling provided the brief distractions against the horrors that had come to pass. "You are so brave, my wife. You have not shed a tear."

Max/GREGOR

"Fuck you, cunt!" Max roared at Edmure who was led in chains along with Willas' army back to the capital. "I'll fucken kill you!"

Grace/ELIA

"Princess," maester Jurne shuffled towards her, as Grace helped the servants pick up Shireen's discarded gowns and toys upon the floor, finding her days as a mother never dull. "A raven from King's Landing."

"Oh," Grace beamed to see Clara/Cersei's familiar writing, but her mind clouded with anxiety when she read further.

Zoe/CATELYN

"Edmure Tully," Zoe watched Willas from the gallery, cleared of wrongdoing in her own trial with the queen producing maester Vyman as a witness who claimed Catelyn had wished to alert the crown. "You are charged with holding captive and the repeated torture of Lord Tywin Lannister which shortly after led to his death, as well as denying the king's orders that you release him beforehand and submit to the Iron Throne's will."

"Aye," Edmure bowed his head, unable to look Clara/Cersei in the eye who sat on the ornamented chair beside her husband. "I had vengeance in my heart and I let it go too far. My men talked me into roughing the lord up and to my regret, I let my hate fulfill that fantasy."

"Edmure Tully," Willas took a steady breath, for he loved to raise animals not deal in politics that his father forced him into. "I sentence you to die tomorrow at noon."

"The small council has concluded," Lord Mace spoke up, as Edmure was led away to the black cells by the gold cloaks while Willas tried to hide his look of revulsion. "Upon Edmure Tully's death, Riverrun will pass to the Lady Lysa Tully," Mace nodded to general consent among the court and the peers. "Lady Lysa?"

Lysa walked stoutly before the Iron Throne, still unmarried but blotchy with the recent ordeals and curtsied.

"I accept Willas Tyrell as my king," she murmured, rising with beady eyes. "I am honored to be granted Lady of Riverrun. I shall do my best to keep the king's peace."

Mace was jovial at that as Lysa swept back to the gallery beside her sister.

"Now is my time," Lysa whispered to Zoe in a feverish tone. "Neither Father nor Edmure can keep me from my one true love."

"I call upon Tyrion Lannister," Willas spoke suddenly, alarming his father who with a nod stepped back a few places. "My sincerest apologies on the passing of your father."

"Your Grace is too kind," Tyrion bowed before the Iron Throne.

"I confirm you as Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West," Willas spoke. "You can be assured Queen Cersei and I will be traveling to your father's funeral in a fortnight."

"It will be his greatest honor," Tyrion bowed once more, returning to the gallery on his stunted legs, catching a glimpse of the Margaery Tyrell, only nine years old who smiled politely as he passed.

 **293 AC**

Clara/CERSEI

"Your Grace," Kevan nodded, in Tywin's old chambers which now belonged to Tyrion, who remained with the mourners in the sept of Casterly Rock. "My brother's will has been read out to jointly bestow his fortune upon his three children and myself, but this is another matter for which he insisted I invite the four of you."

Clara wore black with crimson lions and roses patterned, sitting beside Max/Gregor who had brought a pitcher of ale, beside Grace/Elia who wore black with the Baratheon stag prancing about, beside Zoe/Catelyn whose direwolf furs were black as usual.

"Tywin wrote at length for each year up until 300 AC," Kevan flipped through them all until he came to the one for 293 AC. "This one is short, but all are written in a code or language."

"Al Bhed," Clara said out loud, as Zoe mused on this and Max frowned for he knew not a jot and Grace was puzzled.

"What's that?" Grace asked, remembering it faintly outside of the simulation.

"You know," Clara hesitated, upon seeing Kevan's expression. "Rikku's language."

"Oh," comprehension dawned on Grace, a grin on Max's face as Zoe tried to interpret it.

"Give me a minute," Zoe borrowed a blank piece of parchment to work out the code. "There."

"What does it say?" Grace asked earnestly, who despite being his cousin looked nothing like her and still gave Max a hard on with her sultry skin and dark hair in a plait.

 _Zunyr femm camm cmyjanc yht vmaa du Accuc. Nyscyo femm dno du gemm Tusanel. Tecbuca uv res fedr lyna._

"You can deal with that," Clara told Zoe, who nodded. "I don't care about him."

"This is the entry for 297 AC," Kevan, still puzzled, handed the next entry over:

 _Dra Udranc pakeh du cinvyla. Y tacandan vnus dra Hekrd'c Fydlr syo pa vuiht._

"I still don't know how to beat them," Clara shrugged, handing the translated copy to Max who eyed it with some comprehension. "Other than dragon glass."

"Let's not worry about that," Zoe said, extending her hand for the last entry, 300 AC.

 _Dra Pyddma uv Lycdma Pmylg. Syhla syo yddylg fedr uha rihtnat druicyht sah, ymsucd y drent uv dras cumteanc. Ra'mm cahd y cluidehk byndo ib dra Fymm du ehvemdnyda, drah yddylg vimm vunla ev ed vyemc. Oui'mm haat du tu fryd Cdyhhec tet eh dra cruf, yht uvvan y cylnevela du tecdnyld res eh dra sayhfrema._

"That's definitely your problem," Clara let Zoe read the next.

"Alright," Zoe grumbled. "Least that's the worst of it."

"Tywin asked that the entries be burned once you have all read them," Kevan continued, wondering how Princess Elia Baratheon and Lady Catelyn Stark featured so highly in the reading of these secret documents. He turned to the fireplace and watched them curl into ashes, as the silence compounded their fate.

Max/GREGOR

In his manse at Casterly Rock, Max taught his six year old son Arthur how to fight, knowing he would never be as good as the Sword of the Morning for whom he was named.

Zoe/CATELYN

"Lady Catelyn," Petyr's smirk and little bow told her all she needed to know, only hours before watching him wed her sister Lysa in the sept of Riverrun.

"Oh!" Lysa kissed him more than he did her, all could see plainly Lysa had rabid love for this nobody from the Fingers. "I shall have you, my husband, let us begin the bedding now!"

"My dear wife," Petyr kissed her once more, grinning abashedly to the crowd in a mock expression which did not fool Zoe one little bit. "Let us first feast our honored guests who came from so far away to see us wed."

"So?" Lysa grinned eagerly, watching her husband in talks with the men who ran Riverrun in her stead. "I told you I'd get him in the end."

"Good for you," Zoe took a goblet of wine, only coming to the wedding to be polite. Ten year old Robb and seven year old Sansa had wanted to come, but Zoe had put her foot down and left them at Winterfell. Clara pleaded an illness and Max didn't like Lysa's would-be son, while Grace was glad to be invited away from mothering Shireen all the time.

"You were right," Brandon said sulkily, as Zoe embraced her son and daughter who ran out to play with their horses when she had returned to Winterfell. Their marriage had become a brittle one for she had caught him wenching around and liked it not one bit. "I caught Jorah Mormont before he could leave for Essos. Sent him to his father at the Wall."

"Good," Zoe had made short work of Barbrey Dustin who thought herself higher than the Wall and she would not let her husband do the same.

 **294 AC**

Zoe/CATELYN

"You're here," Zoe noticed, drawing up her black direwolf furs as Max/Gregor rode in, sailing from Lannisport to Deepwood Motte. "I had to tell Brandon you're here to check out the Wall. I had to tell him you drink more than him and he agreed to host you."

"Sweet," Max grinned, his size beneath his armor and two-handed greatsword he held with one hand making him formidable. "Where's Ramsay?"

"This way," Zoe pointed on the map she had taken from Luwin's study, where the Weeping Water was marked. "There's a mill where his mother looks after him, along with the servant Reek which his father sent to amuse him."

"I'll kill all three," Max grinned. "Been looking forward to this - "

"Don't get caught," Zoe cautioned. "Tyrion will exile you if you're caught killing a northmen's villagers."

"I won't!" Max stirred, who had brought his courser as black as night and set off.

Max/GREGOR

Max rode through the forest, through the lands of House Bolton and knowing when to avoid settlements or inns which might otherwise draw attention. At length he came to the mill situated on the Weeping Water and dismounted, keeping his sword within its sheath as he saw a twelve year old boy swing viciously at a rather unkempt fellow who blocked with a flimsy wooden shield, both boys glancing up at Max/Gregor who walked towards them.

"Run!" Reek shouted, as Ramsay didn't need telling twice seeing the Mountain approach.

"Yeah, run, you little bitches," Max got back on his horse, watching the two not run into the mill which he would've torched but into the forest.

He rode for the fleeing youngsters, holding his two-hander one handed as he rode close to Reek, his blade taking the boy in his back where he erupted blood with a curdling cry. Faster still he rode on Ramsay, a swift boy who pale ice eyes glanced back in fear like the hounds he would one day use to hunt women and swung his sword, just as Ramsay evaded but got caught under Max's horse who trampled him underfoot as Max swung the reins round to see Ramsay gasping on the ground in pain.

"Fucker," Max dismounted, walking up to him and kicking him so that he lay on his black glancing up at the Mountain.

"My father," Ramsay cowered. "My father is Lord Bolton!"

"Who the fuck cares?" Max raised his sword and split Ramsay in two. He mounted his horse, his blood up with the satisfaction and rode west for Winterfell.

Zoe/CATELYN

"Took you long enough," Zoe watched Max/Gregor ride up, his black courser as fired up as he was. "Any problems?"

"Nah," Max's sword was splattered with blood as he replaced it in its scabbard. "Where the bitches at?"

"Follow me," Zoe gritted her teeth, riding for Winterfell where Max parted ways for a brothel while Zoe went for the great hall, to have a nice long bath and tell herself it was alright to kill two boys near the same age as Robb.

Max/GREGOR

"More!" Max shouted, downing another pitcher of ale and belching loudly as Brandon staggered to keep up.

Zoe folded her arms and watched, a silent moue of distaste as her husband got shit faced while Max still managed not to slur all his words.

"My lady," the page addressed Lady Catelyn for Brandon was passed out drunk in his soup, bits of his trencher splattered upon the high table. "Lord Bolton has arrived unannounced from the Dreadfort."

"What?" Zoe's panic rose, glancing to Max who was fondling the rear of a passing serving wench. She turned to the page. "What does he want?"

"He comes with one hundred men, my lady," admitted the page nervously, a sideways glance to her husband. "He wants to speak with - "

"I'll talk to him," Zoe pretended to shake off her fear and caution, summoning Stark soldiers to ring her as she stepped down from the high table and past the revellers, none of whom had noticed the disturbance and who bowed or nodded or shouted jokes over her head at one another. "Let's go."

Outside, the air was chilly and the sound from the great hall muted as the doors were closed once again. Surrounded by a dozen Stark soldiers who showed no hostility other than the swords which hung on their belts, Zoe came upon Lord Bolton in the courtyard who had left his men outside the walls but for a few select retainers.

"Lady Catelyn," Roose's voice was deathly quiet but she had grown used to listening intently whenever he had visited in the past to see Lord Rickard. He wore a pink cloak and his armor of gaping heads at the shoulders. "An honor."

"I didn't know you were coming," Zoe had to force the politeness. "Lord Roose."

"Alas, I come on bad news," Roose spoke softly, pale eyes glittering in the snow which blanketed the courtyard. "A widowed miller's wife came to me and reported her son dead, slain by a beast unfamiliar to these parts in the north."

Roose glanced up to see Max exit, chugging a mug of ale as he smashed it clumsily on the ground and promptly urinated on the wall, drawing ire from the Stark soldiers flanking the doors in the only instant the doors were opened and then closed once again.

"Gregor," Zoe feared it would come to blows between them. "Go inside."

"Nah," Max shook himself then turned, his eyes going at once to Lord Bolton. "Who are you?"

"She reports seeing a man larger than she had ever seen," Roose calmly watched Max stumble drunkenly, without sword to Zoe's side. "Black of steed. Black of armor."

Zoe's heart missed a beat as Roose turned to the courser in the stables dark as night, staring pitilessly at its owner and glanced back to the mammoth being before him.

"I would speak with your husband," Roose continued, as though nothing had gone awry.

"He's resting," Zoe bit back, refusing to shy away from Roose's deadpan glance. "Drank too much."

"Seems the same for your man here," Roose stared unflinchingly at Max/Gregor. "Where were you, Ser Clegane, earlier tonight?"

"I - " Max's eyes bulged.

"Why do you ask him?" Zoe asked, turning Roose's attention to herself once more. "I was with him. He were riding."

"Riding," Roose's eyes glittered, as Zoe felt herself stiffen and Max stared like a dumb brute at Roose. "Lady Catelyn. I call you a liar."

Swords were drawn from the Stark side as well as the Bolton side, while Max pawed at Zoe to stand beside him, his fists all he needed as Roose glared balely at Max.

"No!" Zoe shouted, her sharp cry a call for attention as she pushed what she managed to of Max/Gregor back. "Stay your swords!"

"Men," Roose called out a delicate word, his soldiers moving to shield him but Max was too close, bristling with anger. "I have all I need. At once we ride for the capital, to speak with Lord Stark about this matter."

"Gregor," Zoe moved past him, watching Roose Bolton and his men leave, Gregor's horse whinnying in its stall. "You've got to go home."

Zoe/CATELYN

"I'll kill him on the road," Max said, his horse saddled and ready to go as she heard Bolton's men ride.

"No," Zoe warned. "You'll be caught and the king will have no choice but to sentence you to the Wall or worse."

"So what?" Max turned on her angrily. "I can kill anyone of them."

"Not Ser Arthur Dayne," Zoe argued. "If he comes for you you're a goner."

"Fuck," Max spat bitterly, as a light rain began to fall.

"No wonder he took so many men with him," Zoe cautioned, holding her fur against the droplets. "Take the ship you came from. I'll write a letter to Clara."

"OK," Max nodded miserably, knowing he was in the shit as he rode for Deepwood Motte.

Clara/CERSEI

"Your Grace," Varys bowed on the precipice, where Clara sat outside with Jonothor and Joan playing in one of the courtyards, breathless and tousled while she sat at a stone table eating grapes and drinking wine from the Arbor.

"Hi," Clara mused, watching her children play as Jaime stayed by her side, while Ser Oswell and Prince Lewyn watched over the children with their hands at the hilts of their swords.

"Might I sit?" Varys ventured.

"Yeah," Clara gestured. "Have some food."

"I have already eaten, Your Grace," Varys giggled, suddenly turning serious as only the two of them and Jaime remained in earshot. "Your husband has received a raven from the north. Lord Bolton rides to demand justice from Lord Stark, Warden of the North."

"Why?" Clara frowned, as the cheers from the children drowned out her words.

"He claims the Mountain slew two boys, one of which the son of an miller's widow… and brings her here as witness to his savagery."

"Fuck," Clara swore. "What if she's a liar?"

"Alas," Varys feared the worst on behalf of the queen. "There is more. A raven from Winterfell was intercepted and contained within a coded message delivered to you, Your Grace."

"I don't know any message," Clara replied succinctly.

"The code was broken, I'm afraid," Varys weighed his words carefully. "It could only be from the Lady Catelyn, who defended Ser Gregor when Roose first accused him at Winterfell. She asks that you eliminate the witness to save his life."

"Well, I didn't receive it," Clara said dryly.

"No," Varys hesitated. "But in a trial, if the witness should turn up dead and this letter produced… or even should a sellsword be paid to lie that you hired him… "

"What do you want me to do?" Clara asked bluntly, Jaime's sword hand at the ready if Varys dared to be so blunt as to blackmail his sister the queen.

"Gregor has the means to be his own champion in a trial of combat," Varys continued. "But Catelyn does not. Lord Bolton would see that she pays."

"You want me stop her from calling on the Kingsguard," Clara blinked. "But Roose is using this letter as blackmail."

"Yes, Your Grace," Varys tread lightly. "If you come to your friends' rescue, this letter will name you a killer and likely divorced and exiled from your children's care."

"So if I remove Gregor and Catelyn's chance to use Ser Arthur," Clara named the one soldier who could not be defeated in a trial by combat. "This letter will disappear?"

"The recipient will disappear," Varys smiled unctuously. "The remainder of the content will be enough to implicate Catelyn."

"Roose came to you?" Clara blinked. "He's going to blackmail me just to get rid of those who planned to kill some of his villagers? What if I tell Willas it's all lies?"

"There are those in the capital who would gladly see you fall, Your Grace," Varys pretended sorrow. "Who knows if the letter will be produced at some later point, with the recipient's name helpfully found once more?"

"So it's to be held over my head," Clara said bitterly. "Great."

"Only so long as you comply," Varys was the messenger, nothing more. "It would help your cause if you were seen to have less influence over the king than you do now."

"What?" Clara frowned. "Did Mace send you?"

"The Lord Hand? No, Your Grace, never," Varys appeared shocked. "He would never interfere in such matters. You bring with you the Lannister army of Casterly Rock. It is wise to keep you, yet not so close that you turn the king's eye away from Tyrell matters… "

"Olenna," Clara decided, as Varys shook his head but she knew it all the same. "She'll use this to make sure I stay out of the kingdom's business. I know it."

"I must leave, Your Grace," Varys bowed. "I shall assume the trials shall go ahead without any unplanned surprises?"

"I guess," Clara nodded as Varys scurried away and she found in herself a growing pit of guilt, a twinge of regret as she watched her children play, convincing herself it was for the best.

Max/GREGOR

"Ser Gregor Clegane," Willas sat at the high table, beside his Hand Mace Tyrell and Lord Tyrion Lannister, Warden of the West as Max/Gregor stood before the court, Sers Gerold and Arthur on either side while the remainder Kingsguard surrounded Willas but for Jaime who looked over the prince and princess at this late hour. "You stand accused of the murder of Lord Bolton's villagers, the son and his friend of a miller's wife."

Max stayed silent, cunning working in his mind as the court twittered as Lord Bolton stepped forward.

"Your Grace," Roose bowed, his eyes resembling nothing human. "I have the miller's widow to speak for what she saw that night."

"Proceed," Lord Mace spoke up on behalf of his son, restless to do so which his son did not begrudge his father's voice.

"I was in my mill," spoke up the quavering widow who wore disheveled clothing. "He came on a horse black as night, a sword bigger than any man has a right to carry with one hand. He rode after the boys when they ran, and I waited until he rode away to check on them. My poor Ramsay… " she wept, lizard-lion tears but also in fear for this large court of men.

"Please step down," Mace ushered her back to the gallery, hidden amongst Bolton's soldiers. "No other witnesses?"

"None," Roose's eyes glittered.

"Well, then it is this widow's word against Ser Gregor's," Willas spoke up, fair and just. "Ser Gregor, what say you in your defense - "

"But I do have a letter," Roose's voice rang out though it was quiet as a whisper.

Roose stepped forward to produce two sets of parchment, one a code and the other decrypted.

"This… " Mace read intently, as Willas did so silently. "This cannot be! This is from the Lady Catelyn Stark, that Ser Gregor failed to kill Ramsay without notice and asks the witness be killed!"

A hush and gasp came over the court as Max grasped the implications, that someone would break the code.

"That's bullshit!" Max shouted, weakening his own case by his admission.

"Silence!" Mace ordered. "Where is the Lady Catelyn?"

"In the gallery," Varys helpfully added, as Brandon could not help but stare as his wife slipped into notice, blushing like her red hair in a black gown with the direwolf sigil.

"Lady Catelyn," Willas turned, not unkindly to the woman who was a close friend of his wife. "Did you write this letter?"

Zoe/CATELYN

"Of course she did!" Mace blustered, but Willas inquired to Zoe nonetheless.

"Yes," Zoe remained furious that she had been caught, not saw no point in lying further when the code had been broken.

"You told me you and Gregor had gone riding," Roose interceded, his words washing over the crowd and causing a great deal of gossip. "A Tully's honor means nothing anymore."

"That's enough, Lord Bolton," Willas ordered. "Lady Catelyn, along with the witness Lord Bolton has provided, this letter provided proof that not only you acknowledge Ser Gregor killed the two boys and tried to evade justice, but that you wrote to someone in the capital to kill the miller's widow in anticipation of the trial. Will you tell the court who this is? The parchment is torn where it would provide a name."

"I won't," Zoe remained stubborn, as Lord Rickard and her husband Brandon's honor was shamed.

"Then your crime will be dealt in a separate trial," Willas nodded, allowing Zoe to sink once more into the crowd, quite some way away from the others who itched and scrambled like she had greyscale. "Ser Gregor, this evidence condemns you. I will now consult with my father and Lord Tyrion to render a verdict - "

"I want a trial by combat!" Max roared. "I'll be my own champion!"

"Lord Roose," Willas turned sadly to Lord Bolton, for he disliked bloodshed especially for how much would result if the Mountain were to participate. "Please name your champion."

Clara/CERSEI

"I request the services of Jaime Lannister," Roose's eyes flickered for a moment to the queen, who tensed and knew he held her hostage, that he should produce the letter which would call her trial after Zoe/Catelyn's. "As Ser Gregor is of the westerlands, it is only fitting that the finest knight of Casterly Rock restore their name to good justice."

"Jaime?" Lord Tyrion was shaken, he did not want to risk losing his brother. "Jaime is of the Kingsguard - "

"And a fine knight," Lord Roose continued, turning to Clara. "Your Grace, if you say no, I will withdraw my request."

"You want Jaime to fight Gregor?" Clara repeated, playing for time. She turned to Max whose eyes burned into hers, then glanced down. "If he consents, that is."

Max/GREGOR

Max stood in the training grounds which once upon a time the character whose body he was in had smashed Oberyn's face to bits. Now, he stood with his greatsword drawn the next day, sunlight shining bright off Jaime's white armor and cloak, who stood quite ready and agile, having disliked Max since he scorned his vows to leave the Kingsguard.

"If I have to kill you I will," Max pounded his fists as he slammed his visor down.

"You have no choice but to kill me," Jaime accepted his sword from his squire, as Willas, Mace and Tyrion stood at the high table, with Clara/Cersei quite pale sitting near her husband. "And when you do, you will be a free man with no place in Westeros to call home. Do you think my brother will allow you to return to your father when you kill me?"

"C'mon," Max goaded, imagining the whores in Essos and conjuring up all the palaces he had seen Daenerys visit once upon a time. "Let's get this over with - "

"Fight!" Mace declared, as Jaime started forward, faster than Max had remembered.

Max drew his sword to block Jaime's agile thrust, who dodged Max's slash in response, both as deadly as one another for Max was strength while Jaime was speed, his sword battering Max's armor who opted not for a shield in order to wield his one-handed great sword to truest effect.

Jaime was faster and wearing Max out, though not for lack of trying as Max knew he was a dead man either way. His barbaric thrusts barely missed Jaime in his white armor, but Jaime knew well enough one hit could change the tide of battle.

"Fuck," Max went to one knee, attracting another hit from Jaime as his large armor was dented ever more. Jaime sailed around to land another hit, but Max lashed out in time and tackled Jaime, who was caught by surprise but backed off nonetheless, Max's sword swipes narrowly missing as Jaime ducked to strike Max's legs but Max's strike took Jaime in the shoulder who buckled and fell as crowd members backed off despite the gold cloaks holding them at bay.

"Jaime!" Tyrion was worried, while Willas sat grim at the high table.

"I will continue," Jaime stepped forward, as Max uneasily faced him.

"Tough luck," Max swiped, his balance off as did Jaime, injuries from his shoulder making it difficult to land a sure enough hit. "I'm not gonna yield to you!"

"We were brothers!" Jaime roared, his hits glancing off Max's armor for they lacked the follow through, while Max could barely dodge only glance off the desultory hits Jaime swung forth.

"Nah!" Max countermanded, putting all his weight forward to take the brunt of a hit Jaime lashed into his chest which caught Jaime off balance, and Max sailed forth with a swing which knocked Jaime sideways. Max stood atop Jaime who hesitated to breathe as the sword pierced his armor and blood leaked onto the white cloak trailing the ground.

Breathing heavily, Max collapsed to the ground as Willas rose, Jaime feebly stirring but death not soon long after would take him as Tyrion rose to comfort his brother in his last moments.

"Ser Gregor Clegane," Willas' face was stone. "You are the victor. You are hereby cleared of all charges by combat."

"Yeah," Max spat. "I'm leaving Westeros. Gimme some gold or I'll take it."

"My lords," Willas rose a hand at this insult veiled with malice. "Lord Redwyne. Please see to it that Ser Gregor goes on the next barge across the Narrow Sea. Ser Barristan, you will accompany Ser Gregor to ensure no foul play occurs during the voyage."

"Yes, Your Grace," Barristan nodded, following dutifully Max as he parted the crowds with his injuries making his figure and stride no less daunting.

Clara/CERSEI

"Lord Tyrion," Willas turned with sad eyes to the Imp, who sat in a pool of his brother's blood. "I will prepare the sept for Jaime's funeral. Please accept my condolences."

Tyrion nodded wordlessly, still holding his older brother's white gauntleted hand. Willas moved to Clara, who sat quite bloodless and relieved that Max had survived, as her husband took her hand in his.

"I'm alright," Clara replied to the king's whispered sentiments. "I'm going to lie down. Catelyn's trial is tomorrow."

Zoe/CATELYN

"Lady Catelyn Stark," Mace's voice boomed from the high table, now indoors as during the night he had pondered which Tyrell soldier of his to promote to the newly vacant post of Kingsguard. "Ser Gregor has been cleared of his crimes which we cannot use in this trial. Still, the letter produced by Lord Bolton suggests that independent of his actions, you wished to recruit someone in the capital to eliminate a witness. Lord Bolton produces only the letter as evidence. What say you?"

"Cut the shit," Zoe's Max talk shocked the more polite ladies of the court, if not all of them. "I want a trial by combat, too."

"Who will be your champion, Lady Catelyn?" Willas interceded, to allow his father's cheeks to return to their natural colour.

"Ser Arthur," Zoe glanced to Clara who stared back stonily. "If Roose can use a member of the Kingsguard, so can I - "

"Forgive me, Lady Catelyn," Arthur bowed. "But I must refuse your offer."

"What? Why?" Zoe stared accusingly as if all were traitors. "Ser Gerold, then - "

"My lady, I must step back," Gerold shook his head. "I cannot fight for you."

"What the fuck?" Zoe turned to Clara. "Order them!"

"No," Clara's voice came crystal clear. "I will not, Catelyn."

Zoe's face drained of blood. She turned to Willas, helplessly as the rage built up inside before it consumed her, a final plea.

"I cannot order the Kingsguard to fight or not to fight," Willas considered. "I am one of the judges. Besides, it is up to them if they wish to fight."

"Bullshit," Zoe tore him into shreds with a visible look of shock upon his face that made him glance away. She glanced to Clara. "You've betrayed me, you bitch - "

Clara remained stonily silent as uproar ensued and Willas called for quiet, the room slowly simmering down.

"I sent the letter to her," Zoe accused, as all eyes flew to the queen. "I wanted Clara to send someone to kill the witness."

"That's convenient," Clara snorted, remaining unshaken. "Where's your proof?"

"The letter has no recipient," Varys wrung his hands. "Alas… "

"Perhaps it was some sellsword you attempted to buy," Lord Bolton politely suggested.

"Fuck off!" Zoe reddened to the roots of her hair.

"Lady Catelyn," Willas reminded her. "The time for witnesses and proof has passed. You must name a champion, as is your right."

"Brandon," Zoe turned to her husband, but he punched a columned wall in his rage and stalked off. "No one will fight for me."

"Please excuse me, Lady Catelyn," bowed a somewhat familiar boy. "But I am Ser Gregor Clegane's squire, who requests to fight on your behalf."

Zoe's shoulder sagged with relief, to see Willas nod as Max walked forward, nodding to Zoe and a look of utter hate at his real life sister who sat the chair beside the king.

"I'll do it," Max walked with a limp but was otherwise unharmed, though the cuts and scrapes within his black armor could indicate otherwise. "I'll fight for you."

"Thank you," Zoe muttered, more grateful than anything. Her tone turned scathing. "Oh, Lord Bolton? Who will you call?"

"Your Grace," Roose bowed to the queen. "Might I request - "

"No," Clara remained stony. "As the king highlights, I cannot order the Kingsguard to fight against their will. If I order them to fight for you that suggests a breach of justice. Besides, the last time you picked Jaime, you got him killed, remember?"

This about face made Roose's face turn bloodless. Zoe still hated Clara, but understood even if she wanted to, she could not name a Kingsguard to fight without seeming to interfere.

"Then I should like to name Brandon Stark," Roose turned to Lord Rickard since his son had disappeared from the gallery. "His wife's honor is at stake and yet he has deserted her. Will you consent to your son being my champion? He is a great swordsman by all accounts."

"You would have my son challenge the Mountain?" Rickard's face was grave. "And if he is the victor, resulting in his wife's certain exile or death?"

"I will," Brandon stepped out from the crowd, where Max appraised the heir with wolf blood raging in his tones. "I never wanted to marry Catelyn. She has brought shame upon House Stark. I will champion your cause, Lord Bolton."

Max/GREGOR

Max stood with ire surrounding him at all sides, for none wanted the likes of him in Westeros especially Lord Tyrion who had excused himself to help the Silent Sisters prepare the rites for his brother to be interred at Casterly Rock once his service was through.

"I cannot name you a killer of innocent people, not when your name has been cleared," Brandon announced, doing so however implicitly. "Yet to champion my wife's cause when she is guilty of doing just as much, I pity you."

"Don't give a shit," Max replied, hefting his greatsword, easing his injured leg.

"Begin!" Willas called, feeling little better than a sellsword betting on a dog fight.

Brandon rushed forward, the wolf blood in him allowing him an excellence on par with swordsmanship, a viciousness in attack which Max could understand but parry easily, this time equipped with a shield. Brandon's blows were endless but he would anticipate the sneak attack Max had attempted on Jaime which had led to his death.

"Die!" Max was at his limit, for testing his resolve in this life and this simulation, to be brought so low on account of what Adam had told him to do in the first place, blaming himself for not having the foresight to burn down the mill in case of witnesses.

Brandon's blade struck sharp, as Max's blade came down but missed, and Max grunted as Brandon lay another stab which quite unsettled Max, whose mad fury swung left and right in his death throes, knowing his time was nigh.

Brandon could scarcely defend, seeing the great warrior in his blood lust but unable to evade in time the slash that hit him good and the second which opened him up, Rickard standing all of a sudden in shock and Zoe gasping despite herself to see Brandon crumpled on the ground, Max decapitating him all the while as he fell too, his wounds only a matter of time before his death.

"Ser Gregor has won, the champion on behalf of the Lady Catelyn," Willas felt sick even pronouncing the words, as the crowd could not believe the Mountain had won twice, even if he had paid for it with his life. "Lady Catelyn, you are free to go."

Zoe/CATELYN

Zoe shot a warning look at Clara who refused to meet her glance, turned to Max who was quite insensate and no longer capable of being her guardian in any instance -

"Lady Catelyn," Willas rose. "As Ser Gregor will no longer need an escort, please accept Ser Barristan to see you to Riverrun."

"Aye," Rickard spoke before Zoe could mumble her thanks. "As the gods have seen fit to cleanse your guilt, I will ride with you as well."

Clara/CERSEI

"Well done, Your Grace," Varys caught Clara walking to her chambers.

"Come in, I suppose," Clara led the way into her ornate chambers, where she seldom slept alone. "Well, I did what you wanted."

"You are safe, your children are safe and that is all that matters," Varys' eyes crinkled in concern, placing his hand on hers which she could not help but revile.

"My brother is dead," Clara said quietly, meaning Max/Gregor.

"His funeral will allow closure for so many," Varys nodded. "He was a great knight indeed."

"What's to be done with Gregor's body?" Clara asked.

"Only to feed the crows," Varys giggled. "Brandon's body will be returned to Winterfell, while Lord Rickard's grandson Robb is now his heir. My best guess is Robb will be fostered at the Eyrie, to learn from Eddard as young Harrold will be, and strengthen their ties."

"What about Catelyn?" Clara turned to look Varys in the eye. "She won her trial, she's safe, right?"

"In her sister Lysa's company she may find forgiveness," Varys bobbed his head in pretended thought. "Else she is the mother of the heir to Winterfell. Yet Rickard will nurse this bruise, both for Lady Catelyn to shame his House and for Lord Bolton, who named Brandon his champion."

"And this letter, the piece which has my name?" Clara asked. "It can still pop up at any moment, right?"

"One might argue that since Lady Catelyn was determined innocent by the gods, the letter has no value in a trial," Varys giggled. "Or perhaps, when the letter was stolen from your rookery, there was no name, only to make it look so? Lady Catelyn is not without wits."

"Are you saying," Clara hesitated. "There was nothing held over my head this whole time?"

"I am only the messenger, Your Grace," Varys weighed Clara's growing impatience and fury who glanced away in disgust at herself for giving in so easily.

"Olenna asked you to lie," Clara stated, remembering Varys' true nature on the show. "And if you didn't, she'd have you killed. You had to pretend my neck was on the line just to save yours."

Zoe/CATELYN

Zoe rode in a miserable rain, Lord Rickard and Ser Barristan riding either side among the mixed Tyrell and Stark contingent of soldiers forming the honor guard traveling to Riverrun.

"Here we are, my lady," Ser Barristan spoke up, who while normally a reserved man, had been more communicative than the grim Lord Stark had been during the ride.

"Lady Catelyn," Lord Rickard spun his horse to face hers, she who stared back at him beadily and with distrust etched in the worry lines of her face. "I fear you may not be well received in the north. I shall escort your daughter once a year to Riverrun for a fortnight so you might see her."

"Thanks," Zoe grumbled, the admission costing her, but then it was not her who asked Brandon to fight, and had her husband fought for her he might have lived against whoever Roose had chosen other than the Kingsguard.

Zoe rode across the drawbridge into the courtyard of Riverrun, where Tully men secured the battlements, eyeing the Tyrell host with distrust as they held their bows but kept their arrows in their quivers, turning to Lord Hoster's eldest daughter who felt soiled in her direwolf colours and sought a warm bath and a change into the blue colours of Riverrun.

Grace/ELIA

"Princess," Ser Cortnay bowed on the precipice, while Shireen was buried in books in a chamber far off under maester Jurne's tutelage. "A raven from the capital."

"What does it say?" Grace shivered in the spray that the winds whipping around Storm's End dealt her.

"In Lord Bolton's first trial in which he accused Ser Gregor Clegane, who fought as his own champion, killed Ser Jaime Lannister and proved his innocence. In Lord Bolton's second trial in which he accused Lady Catelyn Stark, Ser Gregor fought once more as champion against Brandon Stark and won, but shortly after died of his wounds."

"Poor Gregor," Grace turned sadly to the balcony window. "Where is Catelyn now?"

"She has returned to Riverrun, where her son Robb will be heir of Winterfell when Lord Rickard passes," Ser Cortnay continued. "Her sister Lysa rules as Lady of Riverrun."

"Oh," Grace sniffed. "How's the queen?"

"The letter does not say," Ser Cortnay crisply folded the piece of parchment and bowed. "With your leave."

 **297 AC**

Zoe/CATELYN

"Mother," Sansa curtsied prettily, who had been raised by Lord Rickard to be a lady instead of a warrior since he had returned to Winterfell to govern in the absence of his son.

"How are you?" Zoe looked at her, hurting at how much her girl had grown. "How's Robb?"

"I'm fine," Sansa smiled prettily, still quite shy. "Robb is at the Eyrie with uncle Ned, learning to be lordly."

"Sansa," Lysa hugged her niece, smelling of wine and perfume.

"Aunt Lysa," Sansa smiled, curtseying in her black gown.

"You must try on one of the gowns I wore when I was younger," Lysa said in a conspiratorial tone. "You are half-Tully, after all. Blue will suit you much better than dark colours."

"As you say, aunt Lysa," Sansa blushed, then turned to her mother. "Grandfather had to execute a deserter from the Night's Watch. He told me I had to stay with grandmother!"

"So it's begun," Zoe said to herself, watching Sansa attract more than casual interest from the squires and boys of minor lords who were visiting Riverrun.

 **298 AC**

Grace/ELIA

Shireen Baratheon, now sixteen years of age, walked down the aisle aided by her uncle Renly, who at twenty one was every bit as handsome yet lean as Robert had been. She was pretty like her mother, which helped in this case where Garlan Tyrell took her hands and removed her maiden's cloak of a stag replaced by a rose and kissed her to cheers from the Tyrell side, where Mace Tyrell was present to see his second son wed.

Only months later, Grace joined Mace in the pew where forlorn Arianne was to wed the heir to Highgarden, Loras Tyrell. Sixteen years of age, Arianne was a beauty to speak of though the lustre of her otherwise avaricious personality had been knocked out of her.

Loras stood almost as beautiful as his wife as she made her way up the aisle, aided by her father's captain of guards, Areo Hotah who had made the journey as Doran had gout.

Clara/CERSEI

"How's married life?" Clara asked Tyrion, who had remained at Casterly Rock for two weeks after the wedding of the Imp to his second bride.

"Roslin is lovely," Tyrion said thoughtfully, who after the deaths of his father and brother had gained an equilibrium to push through his self-pity. "It took more gold than you knew to convince Walder Frey to part with one of his many girls. "How about you?"

"I'm fine," Clara shrugged, not caring to talk further about it. In council, she had avoided interfering not for want of avoiding Olenna's barbs which lacked poison but for indifference in how the realm fared. Even hearing Lord Stark had killed a deserter had not worried her about what worse things were yet to come…

"How is the new master of laws faring?" Tyrion sipped his wine. "Lord Tarly?"

"He sent Sam to the Wall," Clara cared not a bit. "Now Mace has almost all his own men on the council, save for Varys."

 **299 AC**

Grace/ELIA

"Cersei!" Grace exclaimed, wearing her crimson silks in the heat of Sunspear while Clara sweltered. "You came!"

"Of course I came," Clara snorted, with Willas some distance off speaking with Prince Doran. "Mace was gonna come, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to rule on his son's behalf."

Grace stood beside Clara, watching as sixteen year old Margaery was escorted down the aisle by Willas, to where eighteen year old Quentyn sighed at the sight of his bride to be.

 **300 AC**

Clara/CERSEI

Clara watched the flames in the grate curl the letter and render it to ashes, where she had detailed the attack on Castle Black which would come to pass and how to stop it.

"How'd it go?" Clara turned to see Willas enter their chambers, some hours later after it had grown dark and servants had lit torches to keep the night chill away.

"Father wants to betroth Sansa Stark to Jonothor," Willas rubbed his face and settled down on the bed, warming his hands on the fire. "It'll strengthen ties with the north - "

"Have you eaten?" Clara asked, as Willas nodded. "Well, I haven't. I'm going to get some food."

Grace/ELIA

"Hi, Garlan," Grace blushed at her daughter's husband, for he was quite handsome and treated Shireen well.

"Princess, please join us for dinner," Garlan bowed, modestly showing her the feast he had prepared on the first night of this auspicious year. "Your company would be appreciated."

Zoe/CATELYN

"Mother," Robb said almost painstakingly formally, in the yard of Riverrun where to celebrate the last year before he would return to Winterfell, a man grown of seventeen, he hugged his mother while Sansa's dimples showed as she smiled, waiting for her turn.

"I got the raven," Zoe grumbled, later bringing Robb and Sansa to eat in private chambers over the music of a lute player playing solitary in the courtyard. "Mace Tyrell wants you to wed his granddaughter, princess Joan."

"Yes," Robb studied his plate, blushing but then an almost grown man like he would not be shy to receive encounters, only to be set up with one for life. "If the king wills it, I must accept."

"What about you?" Zoe asked. "You want to marry prince Jonothor?"

"I do," Sansa flushed. "I would be a queen someday!"

"Right," Zoe went back to her meal, wondering why the Tyrells felt it necessary to marry into the Starks, but then she was hardly one herself nowadays. "I wanted you to marry Domeric Bolton, even if his father's an ass."

"Domeric?" Sansa said nothing more and wrinkled her nose condescendingly, which Zoe would have otherwise taught her to be without but Rickard had clearly brought her up to aim high. "Not when grandfather has arranged for me to marry the prince, Mother."

Clara/CERSEI

"I envy Loras," Willas chuckled one night. "I write to him asking how my horses are doing and all he can write is that he rides them well for jousts. Otherwise he visits Storm's End often, I hear."

"You said something about the Wall?" Clara piqued her interest.

"Yes," Willas briefly laid his hand on hers before rising to pour them both wine. He stood at the sideboard and handed her a goblet before draining his. "Wildlings have taken Castle Black by surprise. One hundred thousand, if one is to take Lord Stark at his word. Doubtless a number of them are elderly or young, but still… the situation is tense, with Mance Rayder holding the Watch hostage lest Rickard rouses the entire north to march on Castle Black."

"What does he want?" Clara asked.

"He wants land in the north," Willas admitted, looking older than his thirty years. "He wants his people to settle, claims his men no longer dare to reside north of the Wall."

"They can take the Dreadfort," Clara suggested, while Willas laughed at that.

"If only," Willas held her hand in his, stroking her pale arm with goosebumps.

"I want to go to Storm's End," Clara ordered, many months later.

She rode with Prince Lewyn at her side, for he might like to see his niece and besides, she would never have her golden twin to ride by her side again.

"Your Grace," bowed maester Jurne, quite feeble. "I welcome you on behalf of the Lady Shireen and Ser Garlan, who are visiting Highgarden."

"I'm here to see Elia," Clara said, as maester Jurne led her and Prince Lewyn into the chambers where Grace sat sewing, still a beauty at four-and-forty years of age.

"Cersei," Grace smiled. "Uncle Lewyn."

Clara remained silent while Grace feasted Lewyn and once he had been dismissed to walk around the castle, only the queen and the princess remained in the chamber.

"I want to see him," Clara continued.

"You can't," Grace said in a hushed voice. "You promised."

"Time's almost up," Clara said.

Grace led her through the castle, into the scullery where the servants were hard at work while both women had changed into simpler garb so as to not draw attention.

"You know I had to swap him out," Grace said miserably. "She made me promise."

"I know," Clara continued, as the chamber began darker where the servants quarters came into sight.

"There's not many jobs I could find for him to do," Grace scratched her nose.

"Why not?" Clara asked, as Grace shied away from her glance.

"His eyes… " Grace opened a wooden door and waited outside, while Clara stepped in to see pitch darkness illuminated only by the torch Grace handed her from a bracket. Behind her, Grace closed the door and Clara adjusted to her surroundings, that of a rather simple feather bed and a boy slightly older than her son wearing a crude blindfold around his head.

"Jon?" Clara came closer, his face moving at the sound not the illumination of the torch.

"Who is it?" Jon asked, somewhat more calmer than Clara expected.

"You can't see?" Clara asked, somewhat dumbfounded.

"Aye, since birth," Jon nodded. "I get terrible dreams, sometimes."

Clara retched, realising what had been done to keep him alive.

"Are you alright?" Jon asked, unerringly finding her with his increased senses. He placed his hand on her back and found her roughspun clothing.

Clara placed the torch in a wall bracket and turned to him.

"Will you let me remove the blindfold?" she asked.

"The maesters don't let me but to change the wrappings," Jon shook his head vigorously and backed off. "Who are you, my lady?"

"No one," Clara felt as bold as Arya, to step forward and breathe in the musky scent in this damp chamber, to hold him close and stroke his hair and murmur that it would be all right in the end.

 **THE END**


End file.
